Death?
Kiki’s reddened eyes suddenly brightened. She seed to think of a way to make Ivana and that little brat Timmy Monroe die at the sa ti.
Doesn’t Ivana go to Wellbright Kindergarten every day to pick up Timmy?
So, she plans a "traffic accident," killing two birds with one stone, sending Ivana and her son to hell early.
Kiki was very excited, so thrilled. It was her first ti using such a vicious thod to harm a life.
So what about being vicious?
This is all Ivana’s fault. If Ivana weren’t so cheap, if she hadn’t stolen her brother Leon, she wouldn’t have to be this vicious, wouldn’t have her hands stained with blood; Ivana forced her to beco this way.
Three days later.
As Ivana was picking up Timmy from school, her taxi was hit by a speeding black Santana that ran a red light and made a sharp turn.
However, the misfortune within luck was that the taxi driver reacted very quickly; when the Santana collided, he sharply turned the steering wheel, narrowly avoiding the car’s front from being hit by the Santana.
Ivana instinctively embraced Timmy, shielding his vulnerable head tightly against her chest with one hand. She wasn’t so lucky herself, though. The sharp turn, combined with the impact from the Santana on the car’s rear, made her temple slam into the window.
Ivana’s head buzzed, her vision darkened, and blood instantly flowed from her temple, staining half her face.
The driver, strapped in safely, was unhard. He unfastened his seatbelt, turned back to glance at Ivana and Timmy, and was startled seeing Ivana’s bleeding forehead.
"Ma’am, are you okay? I’ll call 120 for an ambulance right away."
"I’m fine, yeah."
The driver was relieved to hear Ivana respond clearly. While dialing 120, he opened the door. Just after reporting the ergency address, he saw the Santana’s driver sneaking out from the car embedded in the greenery, seemingly trying to flee.
The driver dashed over, chased for two hundred ters, and caught the Santana driver, furiously saying, "You ran a red light, hit soone, and now you’re trying to run away?"
So vehicles that had stopped behind had already called the police.
The Santana driver, feeling guilty, said, "I didn’t do it on purpose; the brakes failed. Whatever compensation is needed, I’ll pay. Just let go, buddy."
The driver didn’t let him go. There was sothing off about the Santana driver. If he knew there was a problem requiring compensation, he should wait at the scene for the police rather than try to escape.
Unless the Santana driver hadn’t paid for insurance. Such an old car, worth less than ten thousand in its broken state, would make abandoning the car and fleeing a choice.
If so, the driver definitely wouldn’t let him go.
"There’s a lady in my car, whose head is bleeding because you hit her. If I let you go and you run, what then? You better wait here for the police to co!"
Inside the car.
Timmy slled the heavy scent of blood and lifted his head from Ivana’s embrace. The sight of Ivana’s half-bloodied face red-dyed his vision.
"Mommy, you’re bleeding so much."
Timmy was frightened, tears streaming hotly from his eyes. He reached out his tiny hand, wanting to press against Ivana’s continuously bleeding temple but hesitated, afraid to hurt Ivana; his small hand quivered in mid-air.
"Mommy’s fine; the driver uncle has already called 120. Doctors will soon co to stop the bleeding for Mommy."
Ivana gave Timmy a pale smile, pulled down his small hand, covered his eyes, and pressed his head back into her embrace.
She didn’t want the sight of her face’s blood to frighten the little boy.
Ivana felt the slight trembling of the boy in her arms, gently stroked his soft face, and softly said, "Timmy, don’t be afraid. Mommy is really okay."
Timmy bit his lip, tightly hugging Ivana’s waist with his little arm, and choked with emotion, "I’m not afraid, I trust Mommy; my Mommy will be okay."
His words seed directed both at Ivana and at himself.
The traffic police arrived first and soon afterward, the 120 ambulance arrived as well.
The traffic police took Ivana’s phone number and sent her onto the ambulance.
"Ms. Monroe, you should go to the hospital for treatnt first. Don’t worry about the dical expenses. The party responsible will bear them. Once we, the traffic police, have resolved everything, we’ll call you about the results."
"Thank you, officer." Ivana, having lost quite a bit of blood, began feeling dizzy, yet she managed to hold back the constant dizziness and politely thanked the officer.
On the way to the hospital, the dical personnel examined Ivana’s wound, providing initial treatnt for disinfection and stopping the bleeding.
Another dical staff mber said to Timmy, "Hey, kiddo, your mommy had a car accident and got hurt. You should call your dad to co to the hospital to take care of your mommy."
At the hospital, tasks like registration and paynt are beyond what a six-year-old boy can handle, so the dical staff kindly reminded the boy to call his father over.
After all, with his wife in such a predicant, no matter how busy a man is, he should first co to take care of his wife.
"No need to call the kid’s dad; I’m fine, it’s nothing serious." Hearing "dad," Ivana’s heart tightened. She didn’t want to trouble Leon Keane.
Even though Leon is Timmy’s father, he’s not her husband, and there’s no obligation for him to co to the hospital to take care of her.
The dical personnel looked at Ivana in astonishnt and said bluntly, "Your forehead’s bleeding so much, how could it be fine? If I’m not mistaken, you feel weak all over, your head’s muddled, your vision’s blurry, and you’re barely hanging in there thinking that keeping your eyes wide open ans you can endure?"
The staff continued, "Don’t be silly; doing this will only harm your body. If you’re exhausted, close your eyes and rest. As for the rest, if needed, let the kid call his dad. What matter could a man possibly face that’s more important than his wife’s well-being?"
Sense made, Ivana understood, but the issue was Leon Keane wasn’t her husband!
Ivana wanted to explain but didn’t know how.
At this ti, another dical staff mber said to Timmy, "Do you know your father’s phone number, little one? Auntie has a phone here, call your dad now!"
Timmy nodded, took the phone from the dical staff, and with his excellent mory, rembered Leon’s number from the last ti he saw it.
The call connected.
"Daddy, my mommy was hit by a car, hurry over..." The little boy spoke with tears welling up, his voice choked.
Leon Keane, hearing Ivana’s accident, shook with his finger, almost dropping the phone from his hand.
He gripped tightly, his mind in turmoil, his voice trembling slightly, "Daddy’s on his way, Timmy. Tell daddy, how... is your mommy doing now?"
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