She slowly stood up with her own strength, enduring the abdominal pain. Her bent spine gradually straightened, her face pale, but her eyes filled with determination.
Winifred Dawson watched as Leland Burns was taken away. Even at this moment, there wasn’t a trace of panic on his face. It seemed he had anticipated this outcome and accepted it calmly.
Winifred’s legs trembled, one hand tightly clutching her coat, the other supporting herself on nearby furniture.
As Leland’s figure grew distant, her spine weakened. She bit her lip hard.
A police officer nearby noticed her pale face and extended a hand. “Do you need help?”
“No.” Winifred refused and then lifted her heavy feet, walking out with difficulty. Her wedding dress was in tatters; without the coat, she wouldn’t have made it out.
Stepping on the carpet and out of the church, she found reporters surrounding the place.
Leland was escorted by police, deterring anyone from approaching. Winifred spotted Wesley and Henry among the crowd.
Leland paused briefly as he passed them, seemingly giving instructions. The pause lasted only five or six seconds before a policeman pushed him forward, causing him to stagger and lower his head, obscuring his face.
Without anyone to protect her, Winifred instinctively wanted to retreat upon seeing the reporters. But it was too late; they swarmed towards her like hungry wolves to a lamb.
The reporters were relentless, pushing and shoving, pulling at her like a paper boat on a stormy sea, ready to be torn apart at any moment.
Standing up had already drained Winifred’s strength; she had no energy left to push them away.
Feeling suffocated, Winifred’s chest tightened painfully. Her ears buzzed as questions faintly reached her ears.
“Miss Dawson, what is your relationship with Mr. Burns? Why are you here? What happened between you two?”
“This is Miss Dawson! Can’t you recognize her? Step aside!”
“Miss Dawson, today was supposed to be your wedding with Mr. Burns. What do you think about his alleged money laundering? Is he really guilty as rumored online?”
“Miss Dawson, can you tell us about your relationship with him? How well do you know him?”
She didn’t want to answer any of these questions. Her throat was dry from crying; even swallowing hurt. All she wanted now was to find a resting place, drink some water, and sleep.
“Can you please move…” Winifred’s voice was too soft, drowned out by the crowd. To them, she was weak and easy to bully. Unable to interview Leland Burns, they bombarded her with questions, eager to extract answers from her.
Already feeling weak and sweating coldly from her forehead, someone bumped into her waist, causing her to fall sideways.
The fall caused quite a commotion. People jostled around her; someone remarked how easily she fell from a light push.
Everyone held something in their hands; it wasn’t convenient for anyone to help Winifred up.
Sitting on the ground, nearly losing her coat in the process, she felt more like the suspect than Leland Burns did.
Treated this way, she couldn’t even stand up. Her side throbbed with pain; someone stepped on her hand, making her groan softly.
She felt suffocated and dizzy; black spots danced before her eyes.
If she collapsed now, she’d become a laughingstock for many.
She couldn’t faint or fall; she had to hold on.
Winifred tried to stand up amid the crowd, wary of being trampled again. Everything hurt; she didn’t know where to hold herself but never let go of her coat.
In her moment of distress, a voice rang out.
“Move aside! Can’t you see she’s fallen? The police are still here; how dare you bully a woman like this?”
The voice was familiar; Winifred didn’t have the energy to identify it then.
The reporters finally hesitated and began to move back, creating space for Winifred to breathe normally again.
Looking up, she saw Henry speaking; Wesley stood behind him.
Unexpectedly, it was Leland Burns’ people who helped her in the end.
Henry approached and stopped a step away from Winifred. “Can you stand?”
After gathering some strength, Winifred slowly stood up. Seemingly impatient with her slow movements, Henry hoisted her up directly. “Wesley, get the car.”
Winifred’s abdomen already hurt; being carried over Henry’s shoulder pressed painfully against his shoulder blade. She nearly vomited.
Henry unceremoniously threw her into the car.