You Looked Down on Me Once, Now You Look Up. novel Chapter 243

“Patricia, are you out of your mind?”

Her grandmother stormed over, grabbing Patricia’s hand, desperate to see whose photo she’d just ripped in half. The second Patricia’s wrist turned, the truth was plain as day.

It was a family photo—the three of them together. The piece Patricia had burned was Emerson’s family photo, with Patricia in it too.

“Are you insane? How could you burn a picture of living people? That’s like cursing them!”

“Curse them?” Patricia smirked. “You’re giving me too much credit. I don’t just want to curse them. I want them gone.”

Her grandmother’s hand trembled on Patricia’s arm, gripping so tight it looked like she might snap it. Patricia yanked herself free, and her grandmother stumbled back against the sofa, off balance.

Patricia took a step closer, her voice icy. “You better keep playing your part, or I can’t promise I won’t do something you’ll really regret.”

Suddenly, barking broke the tension. The little dog her grandmother kept had woken up from under the couch and was now losing its mind, barking nonstop at Patricia. The dog didn’t know her and clearly didn’t like her.

Patricia stared at the dog, and something old and painful flickered behind her calm eyes.

So that was it. She wasn’t actually afraid of dogs. Who would adopt a dog if they were afraid of them? When she was little, she’d found a stray by the road and brought it home. Her grandmother had gotten rid of it, claiming Patricia was scared of dogs. She’d never even asked her.

After all these years, Patricia finally understood—it had never been about fear. It was about wanting to keep something that was hers.

She looked at her grandmother and let out a bitter little laugh. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

Patricia left the house, pausing in the yard to chat with the housekeeper. She was all smiles and gentle reminders, telling her to take good care of her grandmother. Then she slipped her a thick wad of cash and headed to the car.

Inside the SUV, Oliver was by the window, resting his chin on his hand and watching her with those soft, worried eyes. One look from him and she felt like she could drown.

He noticed the red nail marks on her wrist and immediately sat up, gently taking her hand to examine them. His thumb brushed over the marks, and his expression grew dark, a rare flash of anger in his eyes.

“Did you fight back?”

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