Chapter 5
Up ahead on the garden path, a burst of footsteps and laughter could be heard.
Benny burst in from outside, with several kids in designer outfits tagging along, each holding a slingshot or a toy gun.
When Benny saw Bethany crouched down, washing clothes, he stopped and cocked his head.
Then he bent over and picked up a small stone from the edge of the flower bed.
"Look. That's the maid from our house," Benny said, smirking.
He flicked his wrist and flung the stone toward Bethany.
The stone hit her shoulder. It was not hard, but enough to make her body jerk a little.
The other kids burst out laughing, copying Benny as they started picking up stones and tossing them at Bethany.
"You're just a maid," they jeered.
A jagged stone flew straight at Bethany, striking her at the corner of her forehead.
Her skin split, and beads of blood seeped out above her brow, trickling down her temple to her chin.
Bethany didn't flinch.
She didn't even bother to wipe the blood away.
She simply stayed crouched there, head down, her hands still soaking in the icy water.
Blood dripped into the basin, spreading a small red circle across the surface.
Benny watched her for a moment, pouted, then lost interest and took off with the other kids.
Their laughter echoed away toward the far end of the villa.
Bethany lifted her hand and pulled a pen from her pocket.
She wrote a number on the inside of her wrist.
27.
That was the number of days left until her visa ran out.
Yesterday, it was 28.
She struck through 28 and circled 27.
Then she plunged her hand back into the icy water.
*****
Early on the third day, Colleen said she was craving honey cake from that old shop in the south of the city.
The maid asked Aiden who should go pick it up.
Aiden didn't even look up. "Let Bethany go. She sits around all day anyway. Getting out will help her recover."
The maid relayed the message at Bethany's door.
Bethany was using cold water to wipe away the sweat on her body.
She'd been running a fever for three days now, and it still wouldn't go away.
She threw on a thicker coat and headed out to the garage.
There was no car for her to use.
The garage had three cars parked inside. Two belonged to Aiden, and the other was Colleen's car.
All Bethany could do was hop on the bike the maids used for grocery runs.
The seat was hard as a board, and every jolt sent a sharp pain through her backside.
The old honey cake shop was clear on the other side of town. It'd take at least forty minutes on the bike.
Bethany put on her helmet and set off.
When the bike rolled out of the villa gates, her hands were still trembling.
Her vision blurred, the cut on her forehead throbbing under the pressure of the helmet liner with every bump.
Halfway there, as she was passing through an intersection, Bethany's head grew dizzier, and her reflexes lagged behind.
Out of nowhere, a black van swerved in from the right lane, its front bumper clipping the back wheel of her bike.
The bike jerked hard, sending Bethany tumbling straight into the bushes by the curb, the bike landing right on top of her.
The bike pinned her left leg, ripping her knee and calf open against the concrete edge of the flower bed. Blood gushed out from the huge scrape.
Gravel and dirt got ground deep into her wounds.
Bethany collapsed in the bushes, the pain so bad that everything went white before her eyes.
This made it the ninth time.
Since she married Aiden seven years ago, whenever Colleen wanted something, Bethany was always the one who had to run out and get it.
The first time, she was sent to buy supplements and got rear-ended by a bike, leaving her right elbow scraped raw.
The second time, she went to pick up Colleen's custom dress, and a taxi clipped her at the intersection. She ended up with six stitches in her knee.
Every single time she dragged herself home, battered and bruised, Aiden's reaction was always the same.
"Can't you even handle something this simple?" he'd scoff.
Or, he'd said, "Quit whining. It's just a scrape. You won't die from it."
Eight times she got hurt, and not once did anyone bother to take her to the hospital.
The sixth time, her ankle was fractured and she could barely walk from the pain. But Aiden just told her to pop a couple of painkillers and tough it out.
Moreover, Aiden had given orders to all the private hospitals under the Bowers Group not to treat Bethany.
The reason? She had got a history of mental illness and might hurt herself. If she went to the hospital, she'd just cause trouble.
Bethany crawled out of the bushes.
Blood mixed with mud ran down her knee, and her left leg was almost useless.
She pulled the bike upright and checked it. The front wheel was a little bent, but it could still be used.
Gritting her teeth, she kept going toward the south side of the city.
By the time Bethany made it back with the honey cake, it was already past one in the afternoon.
Bethany hobbled into the villa, carrying the honey cake.
Soft music floated out from the living room.
She made her way over and saw Aiden and Colleen relaxing in the garden gazebo.
The stone table in front of them was covered with an array of delicate desserts.
There were macarons, mille-feuille, and crème brûlée. Each was served on a white porcelain plate, with a bouquet of fresh white roses arranged beside them.
They were pastries flown in straight from abroad.