Chapter 32 Strategist

Jasmine stood rooted to the spot. Her hands were clasped tight due to the turmoil within her. She couldn't bring herself to step into the car, not when she felt so filthy.

"Thank... thank you, but no, I wouldn't want to bother you," she said stiffly, waving her hand dismissively.

Ethan didn't press further. He had considered just driving away, yet the sight of Jasmine limping in the rearview mirror stirred an inexplicable irritation within him.

...

Jasmine didn't go home.

The thought of Richard seeing her in such a disheveled state with cuts on her face and hands would only cause him needless worry.

After all, what good would it do to worry her family if she couldn't change the dire situation she was in?

Once, Jasmine had been the apple of the Wilson family's eye, never having to face injustice or hardship throughout her privileged upbringing.

Sheltered and basking in the light of affluence, she had been oblivious to the darkness at society's fringes.

Stripped of everything, she came to a grim realization-how laughable it was for someone without backing to even think of resistance.

Finding a bench in a nearby park, Jasmine gently touched her forehead and lay down slowly.

Her head was spinning.

At this rate, maybe she'd meet a quicker end.

Staring at the burn scar on the back of her hand, Jasmine's gaze solidified.

It

once believed had misunderstood her, now seemed

could lead to such

if she hadn't been the Wilson family heiress in high school and if Daniel hadn't taken a liking to her, perhaps he would've been

was never

luring boys. Strip her down, and let's

are you trying

multiple boyfriends outside school, so much for

high school, rumors and slander could

her beauty; others resented the teachers'

Daniel's girl. Lay a finger on her again and see what happens," Daniel

said later while perched on her

suddenly yanked into the

out, trapped in a

Haunted by the past.

San Francisco wasn't particularly harsh, but the nighttime breeze

blanket tighter around

"Get up."

a figure bathed in the soft glow of the park lights, standing against

to take me away?" Jasmine's voice was hoarse, likely a hallucination from the

man's voice

Jasmine murmured, "I'm probably

"Why's that?"

long time ago..." Her voice was raspy

mother and the successful heart surgery she had received as part of the Wilson family, she should have died early on.

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