George was already ordering a maid to help Yvonne pack.


    Jeffrey and Teresa ignored Yvonnepletely, continuing to knock on Queena''s door, frantic with worry.


    "Where''s the key? The spare key! Why isn''t it here yet?" George bellowed at the maid, his eyes wide with panic.


    Yvonne watched them, finding the whole scene utterly ridiculous. A person as vain and selfish as Queena would never kill herself.


    She walked over, pushed George and Teresa aside, lifted her leg, and delivered a powerful kick to Queena''s door.


    Thump! Thump!


    After just two kicks, the lock gave way and the door swung open.


    "Queena!" George and Teresa rushed inside.


    But Queena wasn''t in the bedroom. Teresa searched the room before heading into the bathroom. A momentter, a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the house.


    George and Jeffrey sprinted into the bathroom with Yvonne close behind.


    The bathroom was spacious, with arge tub by the window filled to the brim with water. Queenay in it, dressed in a white dress. A gash on her right wrist was still oozing blood, staining the water a deep, dramatic red.


    Her face was pale, but she was conscious. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked at George and Teresa, her voice a weak, choked whisper. "Mom... Dad apl going to die? I''m giving you back to Yvonne... and my brother... and Matthew... Maybe now... she won''t hate me anymore..."


    "Queena, how could you do something so foolish? If you die, how will your father and I go on?" Teresa wept uncontrobly.


    "Don''t be scared, Queena. Dad won''t let you die," George soothed. "I''m getting rid of Yvonne right now. No one in this house will ever hurt you again.”


    "Yvonne, if anything happens to Queena, I''ll make you pay!” Jeffrey''s eyes were red with panic. He raised his hand to p her.


    Yvonne blocked his arm and, in one swift motion, pped him across the face. The force of it was staggering; half of Jeffrey''s face immediately swelled up, his eyes burning with fury.


    "Feeling awake now?" Yvonne sneered. She shoved past George and Teresa, who were hovering over the tub, and hauled Queena out of the water. Drenched and dripping with bloody water, Queena looked pathetic.


    But Yvonne felt no pity. She gripped Queena''s wrist, holding the wound up for Jeffrey to see.


    "Take a good look," she said


    mockingly. "To get this much blood from a cut this shallow, she''d have to bleed for three straight days. Excepta wound like this would clot in less than thirty minutes. You can''t


    See through a charade this


    basic? Jeffrey, what kind of doctor are you? You''re going to get someone killed one day."


    With a final, forceful shove, Yvonne threw Queena back into the tub. Queena iled for a moment before sitting up, her movements far too


    vigorous for someone who had


    supposedly lost a significant


    amount of blood.


    Yvonne''s eyes scanned the bathroom. She kicked over a wastebasket in the corner,


    and two empty blood bags rolled out onto the floor.


    "See?" Yvonne scoffed. "She''s been ying you all for fools."