Chapter 47

The high school girl in the back seat kept her head down, letting her hair fall across her face as her fingers twisted anxiously in her lap.
Andrew Lane raised a weary hand, pressing his fingers to his brow as if hoping to rub away the fatigue.
Emily Blair rolled down the window, glancing up at him. “Mr. Lane?”
He dropped his hand, giving her a cool, indifferent look. “What is it? Weren’t you just scared out of your mind a moment ago?”
Emily faltered, her gaze falling as the light in her eyes dimmed. She pressed her lips together, replying quietly, “Just let it go.”
Even with her head lowered, she could sense his eyes on her.
But Andrew only let a small, cold smile tug at his lips. “Emily, this is my car. If I let it go, I’m the one who’s paying for the repairs.”
Emily’s hand clenched tighter on the window frame as she glanced at the middle- aged woman outside, who was so desperate she looked ready to drop to her knees. “So what do you want?”
Andrew’s smile deepened, but his eyes stayed cold. “Fine, I’ll let it go for now. But you owe me.”
He jerked his chin, signaling his assistant to handle things.
The woman nearly collapsed in relief. “Thank you, thank you so much.”
Suddenly, the girl in the back seat looked up at Emily, and in that moment, Emily recognized her—a student who’d cornered her in the restroom earlier that day.
The girl opened her mouth as if to speak, but Emily calmly looked away and rolled up the window.
The car had only a dent and was still perfectly drivable. Once Andrew and his assistant got in, the engine started up again and they pulled away.
Emily waited, bracing herself for Andrew’s demands.
Instead, he asked quietly, “Were you really that scared just now?”
“Yes.” Emily’s answer was crisp and emotionless; she had no desire to be entangled with him over this any further.
But as they drove on, she realized the car wasn’t heading toward her neighborhood at all. She frowned. “Where are you taking me?”
Andrew closed his eyes, leaning back as if to rest. “Taking you to the hospital for a check-up.”
“I don’t need it. I’m fine.”
He didn’t reply, and his assistant didn’t show the slightest sign of changing direction. Emily clenched her fists and forced herself to close her eyes, trying to be patient. Halfway there, Andrew’s phone rang suddenly. Emily glanced over; the name “Isabella” flashed across the screen in bold letters.
Andrew answered, his voice as deep as ever—but Emily detected a softness she hadn’t heard before. “Is something wrong?”
The car was so quiet she could hear every word.
Isabella Austin was sobbing. “Andrew, I— I tripped and fell. Can you take me to the hospital?”
A flicker of concern passed through Andrew’s dark eyes. “Wait for me. I’ll come get you.”
Emily turned away, understanding perfectly, and waited as the car pulled to a stop at the curb.
Sure enough, as soon as Andrew ended the call, his assistant parked the car by the side of the road.
Ding.
Emily’s phone buzzed with a new message. She glanced at the screen.
[Deposit: $10,000. Current balance: XXXXX.]
Andrew spoke flatly, “The hospital’s not far. Get a cab from here.”
Of course. To Andrew Lane, Isabella Austin always came first.
Before he could say anything else, Emily looked up and stepped out of the car without hesitation.
She watched as Andrew’s Rolls-Royce sped away, the engine’s growl sharper than before. A wry smile tugged at her lips.
Turning on her heel, she hailed a cab-not to the hospital, but straight back to her tiny apartment.
Inside, Emma George sat on the worn sofa, frowning at a soap opera flickering on the battered TV.