Chapter 396

A faint, bitter smile tugged at the corners of Penelope’s pallid lips.
But at that moment, a cold, mocking laugh echoed from the doorway.
“Well, aren’t you clever, Penelope? You’ve fooled my cousin again and again!” Both Penelope and Benson snapped their heads toward the door.
-It was Anastasia.
No one knew when she’d arrived, but now she stood there, arms crossed, her expression dripping with scorn as she stared at Penelope.
Benson’s face twisted in confusion. “Anastasia, what are you talking about?”
The instant Penelope saw her, a torrent of hatred surged in her eyes.
That wretched woman. If it weren’t for Anastasia, none of this would have happened. She’d be fine-she wouldn’t have ended up like this.
She’d timed everything perfectly that day. If Anastasia hadn’t interfered, she wouldn’t have missed her chance, wouldn’t have ended up under the wheels, her legs crushed.
“Anastasia! Haven’t you done enough? Do you really want to drive me to the grave?!” Penelope’s voice trembled with rage, eyes burning red.
Anastasia let out another sharp laugh. “Isn’t that rich? Since when is your condition my fault?”
She stepped into the room, handing Benson a thick manila envelope. “You wanted
to know what I meant, cousin? Take a look at this. It’ll answer your question.”
Benson frowned as he took the envelope. “What is it?”
Anastasia shot Penelope a venomous smirk. “The results of the accident investigation.”
Penelope’s pupils shrank in terror.
Benson, already unsettled by Anastasia’s pointed words, tore open the envelope and rifled through the documents inside. As he read, his eyes grew wide with disbelief. He looked up, stunned, and fixed Penelope with a penetrating stare.
Penelope’s fists clenched the bed sheets so tightly her knuckles whitened, cold sweat beading on her forehead. “Ben, whatever’s in there, it’s a lie! Anastasia’s the one behind this-she forged everything to set me up!”
Benson’s gaze turned frigid. He struggled to contain his fury, then hurled the folder at her. “You really expect me to believe these are forgeries?”
Penelope glanced down, her face draining of color.
It was all there—every last piece of evidence, unmistakable proof that she and Nora had conspired with the driver.
“Penelope, how could you be so cruel? You make me sick!”
Benson’s eyes were filled with revulsion. He couldn’t believe he’d loved someone like this for so many years. He was a fool-he’d let her deceive him for so long.
“No… No!” Penelope looked up desperately, her voice cracking. “It’s all fake, I didn’t do it! Ben, you have to believe me-please!”
Swallowing the pain in her legs, she reached out, trying to grab his hand. But before she could even touch his sleeve, Benson recoiled, shoving her away with a dark, furious glare.
“Don’t touch me,” he spat. “Get away from me.”
He stepped back as if she were something filthy, his eyes brimming with contempt. “God, I must have been blind to ever think you were some sweet, innocent girl.”
With that, Benson turned on his heel and stormed out of the hospital room, not looking back.
“Ben! Ben!” Penelope called after him, frantic to stop him. In her panic, she lost her balance and tumbled from the bed, crashing to the floor. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ (.)net
The anesthesia had long since worn off; pain shot through her legs and she screamed in agony.
Anastasia stood nearby, gazing down at Penelope with cold satisfaction, making no move to help.
If anything, Penelope’s misery seemed to delight her. A small, satisfied smile curled on her lips as she asked in a gentle tone, “How does it feel?”
“Anastasia, you bitch! You bitch!” Penelope shrieked, her eyes wild with fury. “One day, you’ll pay for this. I swear I’ll make you suffer!”