"Miss Jessica, she... she slit her wrists. There was so much blood..."

The next second, the engine roared to life, and Timothy floored the gas pedal.

The car shot forward at breakneck speed.

Jessica instinctively gripped the handle above her window, knuckles white.

Timothy didn't stop for a single red light, weaving recklessly through traffic, barely dodging other cars. Jessica was tossed in her seat, her head spinning, the world outside a blur.

Timothy's lips were pressed into a thin, grim line, his face ashen.

Jessica wanted to tell him to slow down, but no words would come her voice was lost somewhere inside her.

Her stomach churned violently.

She squeezed her eyes shut, brow furrowed in pain.

But Timothy didn't notice. All his focus was on the road ahead.

Finally, they arrived home.

An ambulance was already parked in front of The Gilded Whisper Estates.

Before the car had even stopped moving, Timothy had flung the door open and bolted out.

Jessica had never seen Timothy-always so measured and composed-so shaken before.

calmest people

bitter taste. She snatched some tissues, stumbled out

emptied her stomach completely

and saw Timothy carrying Sheila out of the house in his

his face

and son climbed into the

siren wailed as it sped off

their housekeeper, spotted

"Ma'am..."

with worry as she

suddenly collapsed, crumpling to the

"Ma'am!"

to her side, lifting Jessica's upper

"Ma'am? Ma'am?!"

fumbled for her

it's bad-ma'am has

"She just got home from the hospital. Her wounds were already treated. That little injury can't possibly make her

"But sir, she really-"

bothering me with

The line went dead.

frustration

matter when ma'am had fainted right

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