Chapter 4 Proof

Watching the man she had loved for years reveal his utter stupidity left Sylvia questioning her own terrible judgement all this time. She had no interest in watching their antics further and turned to leave, belongings in hand. But Karina’s voice stopped her once more. “I would never admit something I didn’t actually do! Why won’t you believe me? Do you think just because I supposedly destroyed your marriage, you want revenge against me? But I’ve barely shown my face around you two all these years. I’m only back now to film a movie. Why must you target me like this?” Though Karina addressed the room, every word was meant for Sylvia. With a spark of dark amusement, Sylvia realized this family was rather entertaining in their dysfunction. One blindly besotted fool. Another conniving social climber ruthlessly furthering her own ends. And Cyril practically salivating to take a bite out of Sylvia in his hatred. She surveyed them all dispassionately as Cyril spat, “So if you didn’t pull this stunt, who could have? No one else would be so malicious towards Karina besides you!” Sylvia sighed, beyond exhausted. She turned to Karina instead. “Since you’re so convinced the culprit is me, where’s your proof? Otherwise I could sue you for slander.” All eyes swung to Karina. Even her mother-in-law felt the first prickles of doubt. She wasn’t the sharpest tool. A few well-aimed words could easily turn her loyalties. While the drama scandal meant nothing to her, Sylvia did raise a valid point – who would gamble with their own life so casually just for revenge? Tears brimmed in Karina’s eyes as she realized she was losing ground. Her only lifeline was Cyril – the final authority in this family. As long as he stood firm in her corner, nothing else mattered. “You…you believe me too, don’t you? We’ve known each other for so long and were nearly family once. You saw me work myself to the bone all these years. How could you think me capable of something like this?” Karina pleaded desperately. That past regret still throbbed like an unhealed wound in Cyril’s heart. His lingering affection for Karina stemmed not so much from longing, but an inability to get over what happened between them. And thus he indulged her more than he should, at the expense of wounding Sylvia far deeper than he comprehended. “I know you couldn’t be responsible for this mess. But to resolve it, we need hard proof of your innocence that day. Do you recall what you were doing then?” Cyril asked in a more rational tone. Coming up with such exonerating evidence wasn’t necessarily straightforward though. At his lukewarm defense, Karina burst into tears. “So you still doubt me after all! Just because Sylvia said something, now you believe her over me? Fine – you want proof, I’ll die right here to prove myself if that’s what it takes for you to believe me!” Her hysterical threat made Cyril frown in disbelief. How could anyone treat their own life as joke? Just as he opened his mouth to retort, Karina suddenly lunged straight for the sharp stone corner cabinet. At that speed, a head collision would undoubtedly be fatal. Cyril’s face drained of color. Even his mother screamed out in horror. Only Sylvia remained unmoved, having expected this histrionic reaction from Karina. That woman valued her own skin far too much to actually harm herself – as proven by her earlier refusal to swear any oaths on her life. In a few quick strides, Cyril seized Karina’s wrist though not before her head still cracked against the cabinet edge. Fortunately his grip prevented full impact. Blood streamed down her face from the torn gash. Karina trembled uncontrollably, clearly terrified at her near brush with death. If Cyril had been just a second late… “Karina, are you alright? How could you be so foolish?” Cyril held her in a crushing embrace, sick with panic. Voice quavering, Karina murmured, “Now you must believe me…right?” How could Cyril not believe in her innocence when she had resorted to such extremes just to prove herself? He nodded vigorously. Observing their nauseating theatrics, Sylvia barely resisted the urge to slow clap sarcastically. What a performance indeed! But the show was over and her role in it long ended. No need to overstay her welcome. Except the players here seemed intent on detaining her a while longer for further torment. Each time Sylvia moved to leave, someone would call her back. “I said, stay where you are!” Cyril bellowed. The command tested the last shreds of Sylvia’s patience. Biting back a scathing retort, she asked flatly, “What more do you want?” “You’ve pushed her to such desperate lengths. Don’t you have anything to say or do about it?” Cyril accused. Sylvia’s eyebrows shot up incredulously. “Pushed her? Have you lost your mind? Anyone can see I had nothing to do with that unhinged stunt. Did I make her try to smash her own skull open? She chose that herself. So how is her botched suicide attempt suddenly my fault? If she had succeeded, would you call me a murderer next?” “I’m saying this one last time – go get your head examined by a doctor since it’s clearly not working right. As for your claims that I harmed her, where’s your proof? If you have none, then at most I’ll do my civic duty and call an ambulance.” That was the full extent of what Sylvia would contribute to this three-ring circus sideshow. She took out her phone as if to dial emergency services while Cyril and his mother looked on. “It’s an hour’s drive to the nearest hospital. By the time any doctor finally gets here after two hours total, she could already be dead!” Cyril argued frantically.

Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.