Most of the time, we just bicker a little, nothing serious. But I’ve always wanted what’s best for you. Can you understand, Lindsay, how a mother worries for her child?”
Lindsay slipped her hand out of Helen’s grasp, her face calm as she replied, “Okay.”
Helen’s face darkened; after all she’d said, Lindsay’s only response was a simple “okay”?
“Lindsay, listen to me,” Helen pressed on, her voice strained. “With Yves’ condition right now, IVF just isn’t an option. Do you really want your child to live the way you do, spending their whole life caring for someone in a coma?”
Again, Lindsay only answered with a soft, indifferent “okay.”
Two flat replies in a row left Helen completely at a loss.
“Lindsay, how do you intend to handle this?” Mr. Quigley Sr.’s voice cut through the tension, deep and commanding. “Out of everyone here, you have the final say. However you want to handle this, that’s how it will be.”
His words were like a final verdict. As long as Lindsay gave the word, both Helen and Althea would be banished from the Quigley family.
Helen and Althea immediately turned to Lindsay and began to plead. At this point, pride and dignity meant nothing to them.
All they wanted was to stay at Quigley Manor, especially Althea—if she left, where else would she have it so good?
“Lindsay, Lester’s always treated you well, hasn’t he?” Althea tried to bargain, thinking Lindsay might have feelings for her son. “He’s always seen you as a little sister, even when you were kids. Whenever he had something nice, he’d always think of you first.”


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