My Great Escape Led Me to You novel Chapter 312

A woman’s shrill shouting tangled with the high-pitched crying of a child, the cacophony drilling into Emily Blair’s ears until her head buzzed. The woman’s face, flushed scarlet from yelling, blurred and twisted at the edges of Emily’s vision.

Emily had already had a string of bad luck today. Her thigh and calf still stung from where scalding water had splashed her, and the shattered remains of a hot water kettle lay across her lap. Her patience was worn razor-thin.

She spoke coldly, “Fine. Then let’s call the police and check the security footage. We’ll see exactly who’s at fault.”

Emily shot a withering glance at the security camera in the corner of the break room. “That camera has a clear view of where I was standing. Once the police get here, we’ll all see exactly how your son ran into me.”

The woman’s expression stiffened, and she whirled to glare at her son, still sprawled on the tile floor.

The boy’s eyes darted, and then—like he’d rehearsed it a hundred times—he collapsed dramatically, kicking and wailing louder. “Ow! It hurts! Mom, I’m dying! It hurts so much!”

Bolstered by his performance, the woman lifted her chin, her voice swelling with self-righteous indignation. “You have no respect for others at all! Look at my son—he’s hurt and you’re still picking on a child. You’re an embarrassment to all adults. No matter what happened, it was your hot water that burned him. You need to take responsibility.”

She jabbed a finger in Emily’s direction, voice rising. “He’s our only child. If anything happens to him, my husband and our whole family will never let you off the hook. Now, if you know what’s good for you, transfer me two thousand dollars for medical bills, apologize to my son, and I’ll pretend this never happened.”

Emily stared her down, unblinking. Calmly, she reached over and began prying the woman’s fingers off the wheelchair handle, one by one. “I don’t have time for this. Either call the police or leave. I’m done arguing.”

The woman’s eyes widened, uncertainty flickering across her face.

She watched, astonished, as Emily—pale and frail-looking, still seated in her wheelchair—peeled her fingers away with steady, unyielding pressure. The woman prided herself on her strength; after years of grueling work on her family’s farm before moving to the city, she’d never met anyone who could best her in a contest of wills, let alone a young woman in a wheelchair.

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