Chapter 8

Minerva had always known that Astrid Preston harbored feelings for Frederick. What she hadn't expected was for Astrid to secretly screenshot one of their group chats—just a random, unserious conversation between friends—and send it to someone else behind her back. But what hurt Minerva most wasn't Astrid's betrayal. It was the fact that Frederick would rather take that out-of-context, cropped-up nonsense at face value. Instead of coming to her directly for the truth, he went so far as to stage an entire performance with another woman—just to provoke her. Everything they had built over the past two decades seemed to mean nothing to him. Her love and sincerity didn't even earn her a moment of his trust. The thought was so absurd that it felt unreal. Minerva's chest tightened. It was as if a pair of invisible hands had wrapped around her lungs and were slowly squeezing the air out of her. Minerva was struggling to breathe. She gasped for air, her steps unsteady as she turned and walked away. Stumbling out of the club, she made it back to the parking garage. She climbed into her car, hands trembling as she fastened the seatbelt and reached for the ignition. Just as the engine roared to life, the passenger door suddenly flew open. Yolanda slid into the seat beside her without a hint of shame, insisting on hitching a ride. No matter how many times Minerva told her to get out, she stayed put, smug and unmoved. Minerva's head was still spinning from everything she had just heard. She didn't have the energy to argue, so she simply put the car in gear and drove off. As soon as the car hit the winding road into the hills, Yolanda pulled out her phone, snapped a few selfies, and suddenly started taunting her. "Minerva, it must eat you alive that your childhood sweetheart picked me over you in just a month. After 20 years with you, he still chose me. That's gotta sting." Minerva's grip on the steering wheel tightened for a moment, but she didn't respond to the provocation. Yolanda couldn't stand Minerva's high-and-mighty attitude and immediately grew frustrated. She pulled out a photo and waved it in Minerva's face, eager to show off and prove her point. "I bet you don't even know what this is. It's the latest diamond ring released by Caldwell Auction House. It cost 700 million, you hear? Frederick bid on it himself. "He's going to propose to me at his birthday party. I can't wait to see if you'll still pretend like it doesn't bother you when that day comes." Frederick's birthday happened to be the same day the legal paperwork would be finalized, officially making her and Frederick siblings. She had already made up her mind to let him go. Whatever ridiculous show he wanted to put on after that wouldn't concern her anymore. So she gave Yolanda a calm, polite reply. "Congratulations." To Yolanda, it sounded like mockery. Her face flushed red with fury. Before she could snap back, her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, and she noticed a car following behind them. Her anger gave way to smug satisfaction. "Wanna make a bet? Between you and me, Frederick will always pick me," she said, leaning forward. Minerva had no interest in any kind of bet, let alone this one. She didn't respond. But in the next second, Yolanda suddenly lunged forward like a madwoman, grabbing the steering wheel. The car jerked violently, weaving sharply across the narrow mountain road in a wild zigzag before smashing straight into the hillside. With a loud bang, Minerva's vision flooded with red. She felt herself float, light and untethered, as if her body were no longer part of this world. Her vision blurred and fractured into shadows. The pain soon faded as her consciousness began to slip. And just before everything went dark, she saw a familiar face. Frederick had stopped the car beside her and opened the driver's door, his eyes filled with raw despair and heartbreak. Minerva instinctively called his name, but he froze in place. After a tense few seconds, he snapped out of it and walked over to the passenger side to carry the unconscious Yolanda away. He left behind only one sentence. "If you're still conscious, call an ambulance yourself. I'm going to save my girlfriend." Watching his car disappear down the road, Minerva smiled bitterly, feeling a strange sense of relief mixed with sorrow. Summoning the last of her strength, she dialed Algernon's number. The moment the call connected, she slipped into endless darkness.