Chapter 237:

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Carrie settled into her seat, a sardonic retort ready. “You despised this color when I chose it and haven’t driven it since. Did you only just appreciate its beauty after hearing my colleagues praise it?”

“You instructed me to maintain a low profile,” Kristopher responded, regarding her with a look of patronizing exasperation. “This is the most economical option.”

Momentarily speechless, Carrie turned to Oliver. “This car is still too conspicuous. Bring your junk car next time.”

Oliver, feeling awkward, replied dutifully, “Yes, Mrs. Norris.”

His beloved car, which he had saved a year to purchase, was worth millions.

How could it be dismissed as junk? Previously, Albin had scorned it, and now Mrs. Norris echoed that sentiment.

Poor Oliver.

Just as Oliver reached for the ignition, his phone buzzed.

Turning to Kristopher, he announced, “Mr. Norris, it’s a call from the police station.”

Carrie’s fingers tightened into fists, her face paling. “Did they find Nate?”

Kristopher placed a reassuring hand over hers, his touch steady and warm. “Let’s hear the call first,” he said calmly, gesturing for Oliver to answer.

The warmth of his hand steadied her, a rock in a stormy sea.

Feel the thrill at gαℓησν𝒆𝓁s﹒𝚌o𝓂

After a brief conversation, Oliver expressed gratitude. “Yes, thank you. We really appreciate it.”

Hanging up, he turned back to them, his expression grave. “Nate has escaped…”

He paused, then looked directly at Carrie. “Yara was sexually assaulted by him. She’s in the hospital, undergoing emergency treatment.”

In a hospital…

Yara lay on the hospital bed, her eyes closed tightly, a mask pumping oxygen to her.

Her face, swollen and disfigured by bruises and cuts, was almost unrecognizable, and one of her arms was encased in plaster and bandages.

At her bedside, one might notice the slight tremble of her eyelashes or see her uninjured hand clutching the bedsheet with intensity.

She had been conscious for some time but was avoiding confronting the police or anyone else.

Nate, in his cruelty, had not only sexually assaulted her but had also forced her to endure his men as well.

The previous days had unfolded like a relentless, horrifying dream.

In this nightmare, those men had subjected her to every imaginable form of brutality and degradation.

To endure, she had been forced to submit and appease them, enduring humiliation and mistreatment in front of others.

They had beaten and tormented her, showing no mercy.

Her life felt destroyed.

She believed that not just Kristopher, but no ordinary family would now accept a woman so marred by violence.

Consumed by hatred, her nails pressed into her palms.

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