Sophia Clark’s expression darkened. Whatever thoughts crossed her mind, they made her suddenly laugh.
“Emily Blair, do you have any idea why Andrew Lane likes Isabella and not you?”
“It’s because Isabella is thoughtful, considerate, and knows how to be gentle. She’s not pushy or overbearing like you. Andrew Lane’s a man—he isn’t interested in women who try to bulldoze over everything. Maybe you should take a page from Isabella and learn how to show a softer side.”
She smirked. “That hospital bed? Isabella only had to mention it to Andrew, and he sorted it out for her in no time.”
Sophia’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “But too bad for you. Even after Isabella and Andrew broke up, all those years he was out of the country, you still couldn’t win a place in his heart. Pathetic, isn’t it?”
Emily’s fists clenched. She gave a cold, hard laugh. “I already said—since you stole my grandmother’s bed, you can keep her illness too.”
“If you’re shameless enough to take an old lady’s hospital bed, then I hope you enjoy a long, slow recovery.”
Sophia scoffed in return. “We’ll see who’s around longer. I heard your grandmother’s got terminal cancer, right? Can’t even afford proper treatment?”
Emily knew if she wanted to change anything, she’d have to be bold enough to speak up. She refused to let Sophia and her crowd trample all over her grandmother’s dignity.
She didn’t have Andrew Lane’s family connections, but she had something better: the support of everyone else.
She slammed her hand loudly on the table, putting on her best wounded expression, and raised her voice:
“Is there no justice anymore? Does the law even matter in this place?” she cried. “Someone took my grandma’s hospital bed! She’s got cancer, she’s over seventy, can barely stand up straight, and the doctors said she needs absolute rest—but how can she rest, when someone’s thrown her out to the hallway? Doesn’t anyone feel sorry for us?”


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