My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 142

Emily Blair couldn’t decide whether to laugh or sigh.

Elizabeth Wilson was a natural-born entrepreneur. Just a simple idea for a street stall, and she was already talking about profit sharing.

Elizabeth suddenly let go of her hand, shaking her head with a hint of regret.

“Wait, you’re still getting ready for exams. I can’t distract you from studying—better let me handle this myself.”

Emily chuckled. “Don’t worry, I can help out when I have free time. It’s not like I’m studying every minute of the day. You don’t need to stress.”

Elizabeth’s eyes lit up. “Great! It’s the weekend anyway. We can get things ready, and after class tomorrow, we’ll set up shop!”

Elizabeth’s drive was impressive. She grabbed Emily’s hand and all but dragged her out of the hospital. Back at home, she didn’t stop—she marched straight over to the neighbor’s house and borrowed an old tricycle and a few supplies for the stall.

With her sleeves rolled up, Elizabeth nudged Emily aside and started meticulously scrubbing the equipment.

“You can sit this out, I’ve got it covered.”

The tricycle and the gear had been gathering dust for years. The metal frame was rusted in places, but cleaning it wasn’t hard.

Emily just shook her head, smiling. “If you do this all by yourself, we’ll be here all night. Let me help.”

By the time they finished, dusk had fallen and the sky was turning dark.

Still full of energy, Elizabeth pulled Emily along to the wholesale market to buy supplies—sausages, fresh vegetables, mushrooms, tofu skins, chicken drumsticks—the kind of things you’d see at any barbecue food truck.

That night, Emily phoned her mother, Emma George, letting her know she’d be staying over at a friend’s house.

Emma didn’t think much of it—just told her to stay safe before hanging up.

Back in the kitchen, Elizabeth was hunched over her phone, following a recipe tutorial she’d found online. She gingerly dropped the skewered mushrooms and tofu-wrapped veggies into the hot oil.

The pot exploded into a chorus of sizzles; oil spattered everywhere.

Emily and Elizabeth both jumped back, startled.

“Why does this look nothing like the tutorial?” Elizabeth cried. “Is it supposed to explode like this?”

Emily, swallowing her nerves, edged forward and switched off the electric fryer.

“When water hits hot oil, it always does this. Let’s dry off the food before we put it in.”

Elizabeth nodded solemnly. “Right. Got it.”

This time, everything went smoothly.

Together, they fried up all the ingredients and then mixed up a dipping sauce, following the recipe to the letter.

The result was unexpectedly delicious—so good they devoured everything, grinning at each other with greasy satisfaction.

Ever since Emily had helped Elizabeth out of that nightclub mess, the other students had started treating her as one of their own. They’d warmed up to her, always including her in everything.

Now, hearing Amelia’s nastiness, they decided to hit back.

One girl pinched her nose and announced loudly, “Does anyone else smell something awful?”

Others caught on instantly, sniffing the air with exaggerated confusion before one pointed at the doorway in mock realization.

“Oh, I get it! Amelia Lane’s breath stinks! I can smell it from here, it’s disgusting!”

“Yeah, she reeks,” another called out, “like she rolled in pig manure or something!”

They made sure their voices carried, echoing off the walls.

Amelia’s face turned crimson as she looked around at the staring, nose-pinching crowd.

“It’s not me! I don’t smell!” she sputtered, furious and humiliated.

But the crowd closed in, pretending to sniff her, pointing and laughing.

“It’s definitely you, Amelia—you need a shower! Go on, don’t stink up the place!”

Just then, Elizabeth Wilson walked through the classroom door.