To Urs, there was no need to be polite anymore. Imogen turned to the security guard standing by and said, "Throw her out."


    "Yes, Mrs. Quarry," the guards nodded.


    Urs felt a heavy weight in her chest as she watched Imogen barge past her without a second nce, her back straight and proud as she disappeared into the Quarry Manor.


    Urs had dreamt of walking through those doors with her head held high. She believed Yorick''s efforts would eventually grant her that wish. But now, staring at those very doors, she realized that hope was lost.


    Two guards approached, ready to lift her wheelchair.


    Frantically, Urs shook her head, "No, don''t touch me. You''re not allowed to touch me."


    The maid who apanied her stepped forward to intervene but was quickly shoved to the ground by one of the guards.


    Urs struggled desperately. "Don''t touch me! Who gave you the right to touch me? Let go. Let go of me!"


    "Ms. Larkin," one guard taunted, "let me remind you, the Larkin family is no more. You''re not the heiress you once were."


    He continued, "Even when the Larkin family was around, you weren''t good


    enough for Mr. Quarry. Now, it''s moreughable. Know your ce. It''s no good for you to keep clinging on."


    Those words were like salt in Urs''s wounds, bringing a humiliation she had never experienced before.


    How did things end up like this?


    It was all because of Ste. Everything was because of Ste. She was ruthless. Not only was she hard on her, but she was equally unmerciful to her birth mother.


    With the fall of the Larkins, Urs found herself suffering in the aftermath. Hatred filled her eyes, but she felt utterly helpless. She muttered Ste''s name through gritted teeth, wishing she could bite her to pieces.


    If only the heavens would give her one more chance at life, she would never let Ste off the hook. Never!


    At Mist Bay, Ste had fallen asleep beside Ronald, exhausted. He turned over, pulling her into his arms. In the darkness, his face, softened with a touchof whiskey-induced warmth, nestled gently into Ste''s neck.


    She didn''t know how long she had slept when her phone buzzed against the nightstand. She had forgotten to turn it off before drifting off


    BUMS


    Groggily, she reached out and answered, "Hello?"


    Still half-asleep, she wondered who on earth would be calling at this hour.


    Susanna''s voice came through the line. "Star, Hull''s got a high fever. His temperature''s through the roof."


    Ste''s eyes snapped open. "What?"


    Hull? Fever?


    Still caught in a sleepy haze, Ste struggled toprehend why Susanna would be calling her about Hull''s fever.


    "What do you mean?" she asked, trying to shake the fog from her brain.


    Susanna exined, "I gave him some fever-reducing medicine, but it''s not working. What should I do?"


    Ste''s mind was still sluggish, not just from sleep but from something else that she couldn''t put her finger on.


    In the silence that followed, Susanna called out again, "Star? Star?"


    Ste finally replied, "Give him more fever medicine."


    Susanna was stunned. "What?"


    Was she serious? More fever


    72°


    meduld be dangerous. Was Star really saying this? Could this advice possiblye from a sane person?