Imprisoned While Pregnant, She's Back for Payback novel Chapter 5

"Mr. Lock, what should we do? Should I go help her?" Bill asked softly, sympathy tugging at his voice.

He was a father too. Scenes like this were hard to watch.

Finn said nothing, but before he could respond, Nadine frowned. "You're Finn's driver, not some street cleaner. Helping her would be humiliating, Finn. Just drive around her."

"But ... maybe we could wait for a minute or two, Mr. Lock. She'll be done soon," Bill replied gently. Anyone with eyes could see what was going on. The road was narrow, and trying to swerve around the woman would splash her with cold, dirty rainwater.

It was water that had been pooled there all night.

It was dirty and freezing cold.

She was carrying a baby too.

If they did that, that cleaner was bound to fall sick.

"If you want to blame someone, blame the weather. It rained all night. She just has to be sweeping this one flooded road. It's not our fault—it's her luck," Nadine said with a dismissive pout.

She glanced at Finn's stoic expression, and her heart thudded at his reaction. Quickly, she put on a helpless expression and said, "Finn, I do feel bad for her, but ... "

Before she finished, Finn's cold voice cut through the air.

"She's just a street cleaner. Drive through.

"I know. You're worried about being late for the meeting," he added gently, patting Nadine's hand. But when he turned to Bill, his tone was ice. "What, are you deaf now?"

Bill jolted in fear. He clenched his jaw and hit the gas.

The car sped forward. Rainwater surged up, spraying high into the air, but only a few drops returned to the ground.

Tess stood there, frozen like a statue, clutching Layla to her chest.

She didn't even have the strength to pick up the broom she'd dropped.

The car roared past.

In the backseat, Nadine checked the rearview mirror with a triumphant smirk on her lips.

A filthy street cleaner like her dared to block her and Finn's path? It served her right. Hmph!

"Waaah! Waah!"

Layla was startled and started crying all of a sudden, her wails piercing through the quiet, cold street.

Even as the car sped far down the road, the crying didn't stop.

Bill's heart twisted with guilt.

In the backseat, Finn pretended to be reading documents, looking like he was not bothered by the incident. But the same page sat untouched on his lap.

"Shhh, Layla. It's okay," Tess whispered through tears, rocking the baby strapped to her chest as she watched the vehicle disappear into the distance.

"Don't cry, sweetie. It's alright."

Pedestrians paused. Some took out their phones to record the scene. Finding it amusing, they uploaded the scene online.

"Look at this street cleaner, soaked in muddy water. What a sight! This is hilarious," one of them mocked.

"Man, this is gold. Tip me and I'll bring you to see this up close."

Their mocking voices couldn't break Tess—but the sound of Layla's terrified crying did.

Her tears finally fell, splashing onto Layla's blanket.

Tess quickly reached out, trying to wipe her tears away before they could soak through the blanket.

But the moment her hand touched the fabric, she realized it was covered in muddy water. She had only made things worse.

Layla was screaming in her arms, her tiny face scrunched up. She was flushing and wet. No matter how gently Tess rocked her, she wouldn't stop crying. The sound tore through her like a blade. And in that moment, Tess could no longer hold herself together. She bent down in the middle of the cold.

Tess had seen it. She hadn't missed the scene in that car—the man and woman holding each other close.

It was her ex-husband and her sister and apprentice she had once mentored with care.

Now, they sat comfortably in luxury, high and mighty. All that was built on the ruins of her reputation and dignity. She had fallen into the mud after they used her as a stepping stone to rise.

She had loved the wrong man, and this was her fault. She'd given everything for him, and this was where she ended. Who could she blame?

But she had Layla now. Tess clung tightly to Layla in her arms.

Her scarf slipped as she knelt, revealing the face hidden beneath.

It was a beautiful face, like a beautiful painting. Her eyes were full of life, her nose was straight and graceful, and her rosy lips had a natural flush to them. But a deep scar ran across her left cheek, ruining everything. It was the kind of scar that made people look twice—and look away.

There, in the puddle-filled street, a young mother crouched silently, holding her baby and crying quietly.

The silence was deafening.

Even the streamer, who moments ago had been shouting enthusiastically and demanding gifts from his viewers, suddenly fell quiet in shame. His hands dropped, and his cheeks burned hot.

Layla, even if I have to sweep every gutter in this city, I'll still give you the sky.

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