Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 190

“Why do you think Cici can’t look you in the eye? It’s because you’re too intimidating…”

Emma didn’t even wait for Theodore to finish. Just then, the bus pulled up. She climbed in and slammed the door shut behind her.

Too intimidating? That’s a good one.

In his mind, the woman who nearly burned her alive is a harmless little lamb. Meanwhile, she—the actual victim—gets called out for being too harsh.

Sitting on the bus, Emma pressed a hand to her chest, relieved she’d soon be putting distance between herself and those people. She was grateful for the wide-open future ahead of her; without it, she worried she’d end up trapped in a cage of bitterness, locking herself away for good.

Back home, she showered first, then grabbed something simple to eat before video-calling her grandma.

She tried not to visit her grandma at the hotel too often, wary that if her parents found out, they’d go and hassle her grandmother again.

Seeing her grandmother relaxed and comfortable on the screen, Emma finally felt at ease.

She hadn’t checked her resale app all day. Now, red notifications crowded the corner of the screen—over a dozen new orders. She quickly saw there was still time to schedule a pickup, so she hurried to pack up all the clothes while Theodore was out, then called the courier to take everything away.

After two rounds of packing and shipping, her closet suddenly looked half empty.

She didn’t feel regret. If anything, she felt lighter—like someone who’s been shouldering an enormous load for miles and has finally set down half of it. How could she not feel as though she might just float away?

When Theodore finally came home, Emma was scrolling through news apps and stumbled across a local headline: a certain company’s CEO, Theodore, had just visited a nursing home to donate supplies and spend time with the residents.

The article praised Theodore as a “model young leader,” highlighting his commitment to caring for the elderly and giving every senior a sense of security and dignity.

It was all great PR for him.

“If it’s something important, just send it by courier, or give it to me tomorrow,” Emma said, now fully awake but in no mood to play along.

“Emma…” This time it was Theodore, slurring his words. “Forget it, you don’t need to come. I’ll get home myself. It’s… that stuff from this afternoon…”

Emma realized what he meant—the relinquishment letter and the notarized documents from her father.

Chaos erupted on the other end of the line.

Theodore was clearly very drunk. All she could hear was the crash of dishes shattering and voices shouting.

“Theo! Theo! Don’t push yourself! In this state, I wouldn’t trust you to get home even with a cab! And your wife—she wouldn’t even come down to help you!”

“Yeah, Theo, let it go. Just crash at Cici’s place tonight.”