After the Beck family's retribution came, Lydia came to see me once.
It was early evening. I had just walked out of the company building when a figure blocked my path.
Her hair was disheveled, her eyes sunken, her entire being drained of spirit, completely stripped of the arrogance she had shown at the hospital.
She called out, her voice hoarse with a hint of pleading, "Wren."
I stopped and looked at her.
She grabbed my hand, her bony fingers cold, her nails digging mercilessly into the back of my hand, sending a sharp pain through me. She begged, "I beg you. Go to that Mr. Donovan and ask him to show mercy and give our family a way out."
I calmly pulled my hand away, stepping back to keep my distance under her stunned gaze.
I said, "Lydia, you have the wrong person. I have already
