Chapter 33
Seeing no chance of assistance, she had to haul her drenched body and begin the trekback along the highway. The evening breeze rustling through the trees sent violent shivers through her wet clothes, but the chill ran deeper from within her stomach.
On a night like this, on this deserted road, she had been the target of a calculated murder attempt so brutal that she had nearly missed seeing another sunrise. Her chest became unbearably tight, and her mind went blank with dizziness.
It wasn’t hard for her to figure out who was responsible. Ever since she leaked that video at Anne’s engagement, the Holts had been unusually quiet, not pounding on her door as they usually did.
But she had never imagined that their silence masked a scheme to kill her. Throughout the years, even though she had never quite fit in with the Holt family, she hadn’t assumed they had the worst intentions.
At most, she anticipated loud arguments or career scheming from them. But she never could have imagined that they would heartlessly threaten her life, ignoring any potential criminal consequences.
The more she dwelled on it, the colder she became, with chills spreading from every pore and her body trembling uncontrollably.
Initially intending to walk along the road and wait for a vehicle to pass by, she found herself standing there for ten minutes without seeing a single car. So, she opted for a shortcut and turned onto a narrow path beside the highway.
This was a mountain trail. It was narrow and not overly steep. Despite the pitch–black night, she could still discern the trail thanks to distant lights and the moon’s glow.
Having frequently camped with friends and even explored untouched forests abroad, she felt no hesitation about walking alone here. After all, compared to the life -and–death danger she had just faced when nearly falling into the river, this dark path was nothing.
The route was half the distance of the main road, yet it still took her more than an hour of hiking to arrive at a small town on the outskirts. Without her phone, she had
no way of knowing the time.
The houses along the road were all closed up. There were few streetlights, and not a single person was around. This place felt like a suburban village where people likely went to bed early, with no shopping centers or public transport available.
Just then, she spotted an electric scooter and a bicycle parked outside a nearby house. Upon closer inspection, both were locked.
Feeling trapped, she noticed a screwdriver in the front compartment of the electric scooter that had likely been left behind by the owner after some repairs and forgotten. She took the screwdriver, deftly drilled into the U–lock cylinder of the bicycle a few times, and tapped it lightly until the lock sprang open.
To make a swift escape, she abandoned any moral considerations, promising herself that she would make amends by paying double the compensation later. She climbed onto her bicycle and began pedaling intensely toward the city, which was more than six miles away.
After cycling for a half–hour, transitioning from rural roads to county highways, she finally encountered a few cars speeding past. Despite her attempts to flag them down, most drivers, cautious of potential scams, chose not to stop.
It was the middle of the night, and a drenched, attractive woman waving from a bicycle on a suburban road could easily be suspicious.
A couple of cars did pull over, but the drivers were unsavory men who eyed her inappropriately. Boarding their vehicles could have led to a different kind of trouble, so she continued to pedal with determination.
At last, after more than 20 minutes, she arrived at a gas station.
