Chapter 344: Mind Your Own Business

Caitan's face twists with rage, and she grabs the surgical mask off the floor and covers her mouth. She lunges toward Avery with a raised hand as if to slap her.

"Avery," a melodic, accented voice calls from the door. "I didn't know I'd run into you here."

Caitan freezes, and Avery looks over the girl's shoulder. Rebecca is sitting in a wheelchair with a tall nurse behind her. Caitan's friends stand to either side with admiration on their faces. Rebecca looks Caitan up and down and purses her lips.

"Is this Miss Clifford?" she asks.

"It is," Avery answers. "Caitan Clifford." 

Rebecca smiles and asks, "Were you about to hit my friend, Miss Caitan?"

Caitan's hand drops down to her side, and she says, "Who the hell are you? My quarrel with Avery is none of your business."

"It doesn't matter who I am," Rebecca says. "I just never would have expected such violence from a Clifford. I always heard that the Cliffords were a cultured family, but I guess I heard wrong."

"Mind your own business," Caitan snaps.

Caitan's friends back further toward the door, and some look like they want to flee, but the others block their way.

"Come on, Caitan," one of them shouts. "Let's get out of here. None of us want a scene, and some people are taking their phones out to film."

Caitan spins around and sees that sales girls and customers have their phones up to record. She growls behind her mask and rushes toward the door, disappearing in her group of friends.

"Well, Rebecca, it's a surprise to see you here," Avery says. "I thought you were still in the hospital. In fact, I planned to visit you today."

"Honestly, I got so bored in the hospital," Rebecca says. "I begged the doctors to let me out, and they agreed so long as a nurse went with me. I can't believe I've run into you—what good luck!"

The salesgirl comes over carrying a card reader and the wrapped bag. She passes the bag to Avery, but Rebecca's face lights up.

"May I?" she asks, reaching for the bag.

"Of course," Avery says, placing the shopping bag on Rebecca's lap.

"Oh, Avery, it's gorgeous, and so you," Rebecca says, peeking past the tissue paper. "Allow me to buy it for you."

Rebecca reaches into her wallet and pulls out a black debit card. On the front of the card, there's a purple and gold thistle—the Howel family symbol. She catches Avery staring at the card, and she puts it down.

"I know it's not mine," she says quickly. "I haven't had time to set up a new bank account yet, so Evan let me use his card."

"That's nice of him," Avery says. "But you don't owe me any explanations."

She reaches into her own wallet, trying to hide her expression from Rebecca. It hurts to see her waving around Evan's card so casually. It took so much work before he even let me borrow it, Avery thinks. Everything seems to be moving so much faster between him and Rebecca.

"I appreciate your offer, but I'll pay on my own," she says.

"Okay," Rebecca agrees. "But only if you promise to go shopping with me after this."

Avery smiles and nods. Something about Rebecca's gracious manners makes it impossible to refuse. Besides, she feels bad—Rebecca is stuck in the wheelchair, and the tall, stern-looking nurse doesn't seem like a good shopping partner.

"What do you think of that dress?" Rebecca asks, pointing at a beige wrap dress in the Armani window.

"I was just looking at it," Avery says. "I think it's beautiful."

"Would you try it on for me?" Rebecca asks. "It's too hard for me to change in the wheelchair, but we have similar figures. If it flatters you, I'm sure it'll work on me too."

Avery slips into the changing room and ties the dress around her waist. The fabric is clingy without being revealing, and it's as soft and light as a cloud. She steps out of the dressing room, and Rebecca's face lights up.

"It's so beautiful," Rebecca says. "You look great in it, too. How about we each get one and wear them as a matching friend look."

"Sure," Avery agrees.

When she comes out of the fitting room again, the assistants are already wrapping up the dresses. Rebecca smiles brightly and takes Avery's hand in hers. Avery's stomach knots with guilt. Rebecca is so generous to accept me as a friend even after she found out that I'm Evan's ex, Avery thinks. What would she think if she knew that Evan and I slept together at the banquet? She'd be devastated.

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"I'm sorry, Avery, you probably think my behavior is a bit strange," Rebecca says. "You see, I've always wanted a sister, but I only have a brother. I feel like you're the sister I never had."

Avery nods. She wants to comment on her own disappointing sisters, but then she thinks better of it—Rebecca might read too much into it. She takes the bags from the salesgirls and forces herself to smile.

"Where do you want to go next?" she asks Rebecca.

"Let's get our hair done," Rebecca says. "I've heard there's a great salon in this mall, and I'm afraid the hospital hasn't been good to my poor hair." 

The stylists finish Rebecca's hair first, and the nurse wheels her way to the waiting area. When Avery finishes, she expects to find Rebecca flipping through some magazines, but she's nowhere in sight. After ten minutes, she starts to get worried. What if Rebecca had to go to the bathroom but got stuck because of her wheelchair?

She knocks on the bathroom door, but no one answers. She tries to open it, but it's locked. She knocks again and hears faint, muffled screaming. She backs away, ready to call for help, but the door swings open, and a man in a black ski mask pulls her inside.

Rebecca's nurse is on the floor. The nurse's wrists are twist-tied, and duct tape covers her thin mouth. She squirms and wiggles, and another masked man kicks her hard in the ribs. Avery stares in shock at Rebecca—she's still in her wheelchair, but a third masked man is holding a wicked-looking silver knife to her neck.

"Let me go," Rebecca says, trying to pull away from the man with the knife. "I can give you a lot of money, I swear."

"Shut up," the man hisses.

He presses the knife to her neck, and dark red blood trickles down Rebecca's pale skin. The man seems surprised, and he pulls the knife back, but the blood continues to flow. It flows down Rebecca's neck, staining her dress and dripping onto her lap. The masked man who kicked the nurse tears a strip of fabric from Rebecca's dress and handed it to her. She presses it to the wound on her throat, but the blood soaks through within seconds.

"Just tell me what you want," Avery says, pulling her credit card out of her purse. "Money? I can give that to you no problem—just let my friend go first. As soon as she's safe, I'll tell you the PIN, and you can get all the cash you want from the nearest ATM."

"Do you think we're stupid?" the man with the knife asks. "Who knows if there's any money on that card? It looks pretty ordinary. I want a better card—a limitless black one, maybe."

"Rebecca, give them the black card," Avery says.

Rebecca shakes her head and asks, "What black card?"

"The one in your wallet," Avery says. "Just give it to them. Maybe they'll leave us alone."

"But, it's Evan's card," Rebecca whimpers.

"So what?" Avery asks. "You know the PIN. Give them the card and tell them the PIN."

"I can't," Rebecca groans.

Avery stares at the thick blood covering Rebecca's delicate neck. It oozes between her fingers and pools on the floor at her feet. There shouldn't be so much blood from a simple cut—something is wrong.

"Why is she still bleeding?" one of the attackers asks, his voice tinged with fear. "We weren't supposed to kill anyone."

"I swear I didn't even cut her," the man with the knife says. "I just put it against her neck."

"Never mind," the third man says, "Just restrain her."

He pushes Avery into the middle of the bathroom, and another man grabs her. She tries to cover her stomach, but the man doesn't make any move to hit her. He holds her hands behind her back, and her shoulder twists painfully in its socket.

"Come on, just let her go," Avery says. "Clearly, she's really wounded. I know you guys just want money, but if she dies, you'll be in a lot of trouble." 

"I'm sick of listening to you, bitches whine," the leader says. "If neither of you can pay now, we'll take you with us and try to collect on the ransom."

"You can't get a ransom for a dead woman," Avery says. "Just let her go, and I'll go with you. I'll do whatever you say."

The men glance at each other, and the leader says, "What use are you? You have a normal credit card. She's the one with the black card. Besides, she seems richer than you."

"Listen to me," Avery says. "Do you know who Evan Howel is? Well, he's the president of The Howel Group and the father of my baby. The Howel family will do anything to make sure their heir is okay. You can name your terms, and they'll give you whatever you want." 

"Why should we believe you?" the leader asks.

"Just release me, and I'll get you all the money you want," Rebecca whimpers.

"Fine," the leader says. "You can go and get the money. I'll text you an amount and a drop point. But I swear, if you call the cops, she and her baby are both dead."

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