hapter 488 The One Who Doesn’t Get Chosen
After hanging up with 911, Yunice parked her car at Maple Intersection.
She then took the ceramic ze she’d snatched from the pottery studio–mixed the potassium <b>nitrate </b>with white sugar, poured it onto a piece of ttened clothing, and
apped it up tightly.
Once she was done, she moved the car to a legal parking spot, then walked over to a barricade <b>at </b><b>the </b>intersection.
On her phone screen, a red dot moved across the traffic map.
That was Wyatt’s GPS signal.
Timing it precisely, Yunice clipped a windproof lighter to the wrapped clothing and hurled it with <b>all </b><b>her </b>strength.
In midair, the lighter ignited the bundle, setting off the chemical mix inside.
Potassium nitrate and sugar could detonate in a sh and release thick smoke.
With a loud bang, the bundle exploded before hitting the ground, erupting in a cloud of dense white smoke.
Wyatt’s car pulled up just in time–his windshield instantly engulfed in the haze, visibility wiped out.
At that moment, police cars arrived on the scene and sealed off the road, inspecting each vehicle one by
one.
When Yunice saw Wyatt and Maine step out of the car looking annoyed, she quickly ducked behind the barricade.
Her eyes stayed fixed on Wyatt’s car.
There was no way she could get into the heavily guarded Gardison Residence on her own.
Even if she tailed Wyatt’s car all the way there, she’d just get left at the gate.
So she had to find a way to get inside his car.
The sharp, acrid smoke continued to billow, cloaking the vehicle.
<i>This </i><i>is </i><i>the </i><i>perfect </i><i>opportunity</i><i>… </i>
Even at three in the morning, Silverburgh’s roads were buzzing. But the Gardison Residence sat on the outskirts, and this intersection didn’t see much traffic at this hour.
Counting Wyatt’s car, there were only three vehicles.
The cops finished their checks/quickly.
After clearing inspection, Wyatt returned to the car.
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<b>Maine </b>had already opened the passenger door. When she <b>saw </b>Wyatt lingering <b>outside</b>, the urged line <b>“</b>Wyatt,e on. We’ve wasted enough time.”
<b>Wyatt’s </b>dark eyes stayed fixed on the car.
Something about the inspection felt off. And the smoke–it wasn’t right.
When something feels out of ce, there’s always a reason.
He’d lived through too many surprises not to pick up on that.
He walked toward the back of the vehicle, eyes locked on the trunk.
Besides the undercarriage, it was the only ce someone could hide.
He reached out to press the trunk’s release.
Yunice was curled up inside. As the lid slowly rose and light spilled in, she held her breath.
She clenched her fingers tightly. <i>Even </i><i>if </i><i>he </i>finds <i>me</i><i>, </i>so <i>what</i>?
<i>I’ll </i>just <ie </i><i>clean</i>.
The trunk was halfway open when Maine called out, “Wyatt, Jordan just called me–<b>he’s </b>looking for <b>you</b>. Says it’s urgent.”
The light faded. Wyatt lowered the trunk lid and stepped away to take the call.
Yunice finally let out a long breath, though she wasn’t sure if not getting caught was a good thing or a bad
one.
She didn’t want to sneak around like this–but here she was.
Curiosity really does kill the cat.
The passenger–side door was open, and Wyatt was right outside, so Yunice could hear every word he said.
“Yunice disappeared?”
“You already searched the Crawford house? And she took Victor’s car? Where could she…”
“She’s looking for me?” Wyatt’s voice tightened. Apparently, Jordan had suggested Yunice might have left to find him.
<i>Wow</i>. <i>That </i><i>obvious</i>, <i>huh</i><i>? </i>
There weren’t many people she cared enough about to do something like this. Wyatt was definitely one <b>of </b>them.
Then Maine’s voice cut in again. “Wyatt, forget her for now. Isn’t Nora more
ortant?”
Yunice’s heart clenched.
That one sentence felt like someone had gripped her heart in their hand–like it might <b>be </b>crushed any
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Chapter 488 The One Who Doesn’t Get Chosen
second.
She nced toward the car door, even though she couldn’t see Wyatt from where she was,
Wyatt ended the call and circled back to the driver’s side.
Maine wasn’t sure if he’d changed his mind, so she hurried to say, “Wyatt, she’s perfectly fine–the left on her own. There’s no way she’s in danger.”
“But if you don’t go see Nora tonight, you’ll regret it!”
Yunice thought she heard the sound of Wyatt’s fingers tightening around the steering wheel
He was hesitating. Struggling. Torn.
Yunice’s heart sank.
So this <i>is </i><i>how </i>it <i>happens</i><i>… </i>
Just earlier, she’d told Mr. Carl that Wyatt didn’t y favorites. She said he’d never been forced to choose.
<i>Well</i><i>, </i>now <i>he </i>has to choose, doesn’t he<i>? </i>
Between her and Nora–who would he pick?
But the thing about true favoritism… it doesn’t require a choice.
And no matter who Wyatt chose, Yunice had already lost.
<i>Because </i><i>real </i><i>favoritism </i><i>isn’t </i><i>something </i><i>you </i><i>decide</i>. It’s <i>something </i><i>you </i><i>are. </i>
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