Curiosity curdled into contempt. Whispers hissed through the room.
"High-end establishment, celebrity chef—pre-made dishes? Please. If you can't afford it, don't slander the business."
"Trying to scam people on New Year's Eve? How desperate can you get?"
"Old woman, drop the act. Isn't it humiliating enough getting dragged out like a sack of potatoes?"
"Look at the old geezer. One glance and you can tell he's trouble. Deserved getting his teeth knocked out."
My in-laws had lived lives of dignity. When had they ever endured such public degradation?
Zoe's face turned a terrifying purple. Her body seized, convulsed violently, then went completely limp against the floor.
"Wife!"
"Mom!"
My father-in-law and I screamed together, voices cracking. We begged the crowd for help, and finally, the severity pierced through their prejudice.
"Wait—" a diner muttered. "That looks like a real heart attack."
A man identifying himself as a doctor pushed through. He dropped to his knees and peeled back Zoe's eyelids.
"Pupils dilating. This is critical." He looked up urgently. "Nitroglycerin? Any heart medication? Now!"
I struggled against Jasmine's grip. "Let me go! I need to get her medicine!"
"Save the drama." Jasmine rolled her eyes. "If I let you go, you'll just attack me again."
"She's dying!"
The doctor began chest compressions. Someone finally dialed emergency services.
The security guards shifted uneasily. "Manager Maxwell, if something happens to the old woman, we could be liable..."
Jasmine's expression didn't waver. "They brought this on themselves. Came here to cause trouble—whatever happens, they deserve it." She tossed her hair back. "Besides, my boyfriend is the CEO of the Sanchez Group. With Anthony behind me, what's there to fear?"
Hearing his son's name used as a shield for murder, my father-in-law raised a trembling hand. He opened his mouth to curse, but no sound came. Rage choked him. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.
"Dad!"
Sirens wailed closer until the ambulance screeched to a halt outside. Paramedics rushed in, and with the crowd's help, my in-laws were lifted onto stretchers.
Jasmine leaned in close, smirking. "You should be grateful those two old relics know how to play dead. Otherwise—"
I didn't let her finish.
Blinded by fury, I grabbed a wine bottle from the nearest table and smashed it over her head.