“Yes. This is on me,” he said. “I chose to race. I know what I’m doing. I just didn’t expect someone to set me up. This isn’t Kelsey’s fault.”
I steadied myself, feeling how absurd it all was.
Why did they think I would go after Kelsey?
I was the one more seriously injured.
None of this was my fault.
Yet standing here, I felt like the guilty one—like a vicious woman who needed to be stopped before she did something unforgivable.
I raised my hand, cutting off Tucker before he could keep explaining.
“I’m not mad.”
I looked at him and spoke slowly.
“Tucker, if you want to die, then go die. It has nothing to do with me.”
With that, I turned and walked away.
Behind me, he called out once.
“Honey—”
But the next second, Kelsey let out a soft cry.
“Ah… it hurts.”
Tucker hesitated, then stopped and turned back.
In a room full of “family,” not one person noticed the blood soaking through the fabric over my knee.
At the end of the hallway, I took out my phone and dialed a number.
“Hunter.”
My voice was quiet.
“Can you come pick me up?”
There was a brief pause, then a low, amused voice.
“What, the young heiress finally remembered me?”
“Stay there,” he said. “I’ll be right there.”
Verity’s POV