Chapter 183 Gaining Sympathy
Did Ashley commit suicide?
Several people were taken aback. Rachel was the first to speak, somewhat incredulously, “Ashley committed suicide? She would commit suicide? My God.”
I pursed my l*ps, took a moment to calm my emotions, and said to Odin. “If Walter isn’t at the company, he should be at the hospital. Why don’t you go ch*ck Carley’s ward? He might be talking to Carley and turned his phone on silent.”
Odin nodded and went to Carley’s ward.
Seeing this, Olivia also followed after saying goodbye to us.
Seeing the person leave, Rachel looked at me and asked, “Shall we go take a look?”
I shook my head, saw the elevator had arrived, and helped her into the
elevator.
Seeing no change in my expression, Rachel paused before saying, “Tabatha, did Ashley really commit suicide?”
I shook my head, my expression faint, “I don’t know.”
She continued, “Why commit suicide? It’s impossible for someone like her to commit suicide.” After saying this, she seemed to have an epiphany, “Yes, it definitely wasn’t suicide. She must be trying to play the victim, hoping to gain the sympathy of the Hinton family, and then make her way into their household.”
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I didn’t respond, the elevator arrived, and I helped her out. Seeing that I hadn’t spoken, Rachel whispered, “Tabatha, do you think Walter will soften?”
I suddenly stopped in my tracks, glancing at her sideways.
She froze, puzzled, “What…what happened?”
“I’m already divorced from him, his affairs have nothing to do with me.” After saying this, I helped her continue to walk out.
She choked a bit, opened her mouth and said, “I…” The words were on the tip of her tongue, she clicked her tongue and said, “Alright, I just have a habit of wanting to gossip, I’m idle, if you don’t like me talking, then I won’t talk anymore.”
I pursed my l*ps into a faint smile, glanced at her and said, “I’ve noticed you’ve been posting beautiful photos and showing off your literary talent on your social media these past few days. What’s up? Got someone you like?”
She paused, looking guilty, and limped towards the side of the car. “Does posting pretty pictures mean I have someone I like? Can’t I just appreciate myself?”
Following behind her, I helped her into the car, then turned around to get into the driver’s seat. I started the car and said lightly, “It’s not a bad thing to have someone you like, as long as it’s reasonable, emotional, and legal. After all, I’ve been married and divorced, and I guess your father must be urging you to get married every day.”
She glanced out the car window, her expression unreadable to me. All I heard was her saying lightly, “Who can really explain something like love? Besides, it’s not like you don’t know, I never wanted to get married. Whoever wants to get married can do so. As for me, I’m still the same, only dating, not marrying, only enjoying, not taking
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responsibility.”
Regarding her views on love, I didn’t comment, I just said, “If you like dating, go ahead, but don’t hurt others, or you’ll get into trouble.”
She grunted and said, “I understand. What trouble can it cause? Who says in this world, only men can pa*s through a multitude of flowers without touching a single leaf? Hmph, I can do the same. I can look at thousands of handsome guys, but I just won’t get married. Whoever wants to get married can do so.”
I laughed helplessly and said, “Don’t give me these twisted reasons. I just want to remind you, it’s okay to like handsome guys, but keep your boundaries. Besides, don’t think I don’t know, you’ve been talking big for so many years, but I’ve never seen you actually date.”
Having grown up with her since childhood, I had some understanding of her. Over the years, she had claimed to have slept with handsome men hundreds of times, but in action, she was still a novice. I suspect she hadn’t even touched a man’s hand.
She chuckled and stopped talking.
Returning to the apartment, it was already late. Rachel had sprained her ankle and it was inconvenient for her to go out for dinner. I looked around the house and found her refrigerator was empty. It seemed like she hadn’t cooked at home for several days.
Helplessly, I asked her to wait at home while I went to the nearby supermarket to buy some groceries.
She hummed in response, hugging her phone and seemingly doing nothing, not even lifting her head. Seeing her like this, I shook my head helplessly and left the room.
Rachel’s apartment was in the city center, surrounded by hustle and bustle. The night fell late in River City, it was almost five or six
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o’clock, and there was still a bit of sunset glow. I headed straight for the supermarket, pushed a cart, and went to the vegetable section.
I wandered around by myself, with the sole purpose of buying the things I needed. Pushing a shopping cart, I picked up the vegetables. and seasonings needed for dinner. When I reached the fruit section, I thought about buying some fruits to take home and make juice.
As she bent down to pick an orange, a voice suddenly came from beside her. “Ms. Conner.”
I glanced sideways and saw Sebastian not far away, holding an apple. Beside him stood a woman who looked haggard and somewhat thin. She seemed to be in her forties or fifties, and her facial features bore a striking resemblance to Sebastian’s, about seventy to eighty percent similar.
