Margot started sobbing at the right moment and said, "Cornell, I sent a message to Hailey, apologizing, but she blocked me. She must hate me to death. And she doesn't want to see me again, does she? So what's the point of me living ...."
Even though I did hate her, I didn't want to cause any harm.
I quickly looked up at her. I noticed a half centimeter long wound on her wrist that had been treated with iodine and had already scarred.
Is this a suicide cut wound?
I felt a sense of sadness in my heart and I pursed my lips.
"Cornell, if I come here tomorrow, will her wounds heal?"
He was furious. "Hailey! How could you be so vicious? If I hadn't discovered it in time ... do you know what consequences a pregnant woman have to lose too much blood?"
It was probably what it meant to be too concerned.
A small wound made him flustered, but he turned a blind eye to the blood flowing from my forehead.
He must be terribly in love with his adopted sister.
My heart sank and I furrowed my brow, not saying a word.
It seemed to completely infuriate him. He threw the fruit knife at me and said angrily.
"Since you don't even care about her, then cut the same wound and feel the pain yourself. You owe it to Margot!"
I looked at him in disbelief. He was the man I had loved wholeheartedly for five years.
I felt chill in my heart.
It was just a knife, wasn't it? I could just give it back to her.
Lowering my eyes to hide the tears, I picked up the knife and gently cut my wrist.
Margot screamed in fear.
I struggled to stand up and held my hand in front of Cornell, saying, "Is that enough?"
Blood kept dripping down.
He glanced at me with disdain.
He then turned around to comfort the frightened sister, cursing under his breath.
"Who told you to go so deep? You're so hopelessly stupid."
I smiled helplessly and stumbled to the door.
He suddenly said, "Hailey, go reflect on yourself in your family's house! I will come to pick you up in three days."
I laughed so hard that tears streamed down my face.
Cornell, we would never see each other again.
