My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 11

Emily Blair almost laughed out loud.

All this time, she’d thought Andrew Lane was just your typical emotionally clueless guy—incapable of tenderness or care. But she’d been wrong. It wasn’t that Andrew Lane didn’t understand how to be gentle; he simply saved all his kindness for Isabella Austin, and only cared about the son Isabella had given him.

Isabella’s shoulders slumped. She lowered her head and stepped back, her voice small and uncertain.

“It’s all right, Andrew. It makes sense that Ms. Blair doesn’t like me—”

Before she could even finish, Emily, under the sharp glare of Andrew’s eyes, snatched the glass of juice from Isabella’s hand and downed it in one long gulp.

She handed the empty glass back to Isabella, drew in a deep breath, and met Andrew’s icy gaze head-on.

“Are you satisfied now, Andrew Lane?”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t bother me again.”

Emily let out a short, bitter laugh, spun on her heel, and slammed the door behind her.

Once the door was shut, Emily bolted for the bathroom. She gripped the edge of the sink, forced her fingers down her throat, and retched up every last drop of juice from her stomach.

She leaned against the porcelain, gasping for breath as her hair stuck damply to her cheek and her lips turned faint and bloodless.

It had happened just like this in her previous life: Isabella had handed her a glass of juice, and, trusting her, Emily had drunk it—never suspecting it was laced with something vile.

This time, she wasn’t going to fall into their traps. She would keep her distance from Andrew Lane. No more entanglements.

Five minutes later, shouts erupted outside her room.

Emily ignored them. She kept her head down, scribbling formulas in her workbook, blocking out the noise.

Until someone started pounding on her bedroom door. Amelia Lane’s shrill voice sliced through the wood.

“Emily Blair, get out here! What disgusting thing did you leave in my brother’s room? Open the door!”

Isabella nodded, eyes shining with trust. “Okay. I believe you.”

Emily looked at them all and felt a cold weight settle in her chest.

Amelia released her with a shove. “How dare you put a love letter in my brother’s room, Emily Blair? That’s disgusting! Have you no shame?”

Emily rubbed her wrist, her voice steady and cold. “I didn’t do it. That letter isn’t mine.”

She had never stooped to anything like this. Not now, not ever.

Amelia snatched the letter from Andrew’s hand, tore open the envelope, and waved the folded note in front of Emily’s face.

“Look at the handwriting. Look at the signature. Who else could it be if not you?!”

Andrew held Isabella’s frail shoulders, his dark eyes fixed unblinking on Emily, cold and hard as stone.