Chapter 3

Her voice suddenly became shrill, drawing everyone's attention.

"Alice, that's really uncool. If you don't want to take her, just say so. Why make up such lies?"

"You just got that car last week. You sold it after a few days? Who's going to believe that?"

"That was a new car, $100,000. She doesn't want to take her, so she won't."

Everyone's eyes fell on me in unison.

Kate reacted even faster.

She clutched her belly, her body tilting as she leaned against a nearby desk, tears dripping down.

"Alice, if you don't want to take me, I really won't force you..."

Her voice was soft and trembling:

"But you can't lie about selling your car. My belly really hurts. I just wanted you to help me..."

As she spoke, her whole body started sliding down, as if she couldn't stand anymore.

Madison rushed over to support her, then glared back at me.

"Alice, look! She's about to faint from the pain! And you're here making up stories!"

Carter chimed in too: "Exactly. How hard is it to drive someone? Do you really want to just watch her die?"

Tony picked up his tea, took a leisurely sip, his voice neither loud nor soft, just enough for everyone to hear:

"Some people act all mighty when they're driving nice cars, but when it's time to actually use them, they play poor. Sold the car? Who believes that?"

I didn't say anything. I watched this group coldly.

In my past life, they wore the same faces.

Madison was the first person to repost the cyberbullying video.

She even said in the company group: "Having someone like this in our department is so embarrassing."

Later, when someone doxxed my home address, Tony twisted the knife: "Someone like that doesn't deserve to live in that neighborhood."

Now they stood here, surrounding me.

Their eyes full of contempt, as if I were some cold-blooded animal.

I felt not a ripple of emotion inside. I simply said calmly:

"My car is mine to sell whenever I want. I don't have a car. Don't come asking me."

Kate let out another scream, this time much louder than before.

Her face really did turn pale, her forehead covered in cold sweat, her lips purple, even her breathing becoming rapid.

The people around started panicking. "Call 911 quick!"

Someone shouted, "Right, right, call 911!"

Carter pulled out his phone, his hands shaking.

Kate collapsed on the floor, still crying, still screaming in pain.

But her eyes looked past the crowd, staring straight at me.

Full of hatred. She hated me for not taking her.

In my past life, after I obediently served her for a month, I also supplemented my knowledge about babies extensively.

I read over a dozen books and watched hundreds of educational videos online.

The videos said that when the umbilical cord wraps around the neck three or more times, the probability of fetal death is already extremely high.

Especially in late pregnancy, the wrapping causes insufficient blood supply. It has nothing to do with riding in a car or bumpy roads.

But they insisted it was my fault. I was guilt-ridden and devastated.

Until I accidentally saw text messages on Kate's phone that she sent to Marcus during her late pregnancy.

The baby clearly had the cord wrapped around its neck, yet they still refused a cesarean section.

She and her husband had been waiting for this day from the start, waiting for a "sucker" to take them.

The sound of an ambulance came from downstairs.

I stood in place, motionless.

The moment Kate was lifted onto the stretcher, she looked at me again.

I smiled at her. That smile held no warmth.

"Kate, don't blame the wrong person this time." After Kate was carried away, the office was quiet for less than half an hour.

Then my phone started buzzing.

In the company group, Kate was handing out good person cards:

"Thank you everyone for calling 911 for me just now. Without you all, I really wouldn't have known what to do."

"I'm at the hospital now. I'll be going into the delivery room soon."

"Thank you all so much. You're all my lifesavers..."