Winifred Dawson indeed liked living in a big house. Setting aside Leland Burns, the “Autumn Joy Estate” was decorated and arranged entirely to her taste. If it weren’t for Leland Burns, she would have loved living there. A good environment lifts one’s spirits.
But did Leland Burns bring her there because of her preferences? No, he did it to control her more conveniently.
Thus, no matter how beautiful the house was, it felt like a cage to her. No one likes being confined.
A sparrow yearning for freedom, if caged, will keep flying until it crashes and bleeds, refusing to eat or drink until it dies inside.
After hearing Henry’s words, Winifred Dawson felt a tightness in her chest and struggled to breathe. She opened her mouth and took a deep breath of sea air, which went straight down her throat. She immediately vomited it out. She had already thrown up the night before, and now she was dry heaving.
She vomited violently, tears streaming down her face. Her stomach felt as if a hand was pulling at it from inside. Her body bent over, shaking with the effort of retching. In just a short while, she broke out in a cold sweat but managed not to collapse.
Though it lasted only half a minute, it felt like half a day. Winifred Dawson took out a tissue from her coat pocket to wipe her mouth. When she turned back, she glanced indifferently at Henry with bloodshot eyes.
Henry’s face turned ugly. He had said so much-any normal person would have been moved; even if not emotionally touched, they wouldn’t have vomited on the spot. Was what he said that disgusting?
Henry almost couldn’t hold onto the wooden box in his hand. He had an impulse to throw the box at Winifred Dawson or push her into the sea.
How could someone be so heartless? Wasn’t she afraid of retribution?
Wrong-Winifred Dawson had already faced retribution long ago.
If Wesley hadn’t quickly grabbed Henry’s collar to stop him, something might have happened.
“Why are you laughing? What do you mean by this, Winifred Dawson?”
“What do I mean?” Winifred Dawson wiped her mouth with the tissue and said slowly, “Isn’t it obvious? I find your words disgusting and hypocritical. Don’t say such things in front of me again. No… we don’t need to see each other ever again. If Leland Burns is dead, I wish him a better next life; if he’s not dead, I wish him an early death.”
Winifred Dawson turned around, clenched the tissue tightly in her hand, and walked away with her back straight.
Henry sneered at her retreating figure: “What kind of person is this? So smug now; one day she’ll regret it.”
Leland Burns held grudges deeply; anyone who crossed him would face tenfold or hundredfold retribution.
Wesley’s eyes flickered as he saw that Henry wouldn’t act rashly anymore. He released his grip: “Alright, we’ve achieved our goal. We’ve done what we needed to do; let’s go back.”
Henry raised the wooden box in his hand: “What about these ashes?”
“Scatter them into the sea.”
Henry tilted the box directly into the wind blowing towards him. The white powder from the box blew back into his face, making him hold his breath with a twisted expression.
“Winifred Dawson is just as the boss said-unyielding.”
Being unyielding was Winifred Dawson’s way of protecting herself, but it’s a double-edged sword. Not being tactful could easily offend people and hurt herself in the end.
After leaving the coast, Winifred Dawson didn’t know what happened there. She walked back home in a daze. She hadn’t changed shoes when she left and wore slippers that nearly tripped her several times on the uneven gravel road.
Her mind was filled with thoughts of the powder in that wooden box-Leland Burns’ ashes.
Winifred Dawson stumbled back home and opened the door to find Mrs. Protich running out upon hearing the noise. Seeing Winifred Dawson surprised her.
“Miss Dawson, why are you up so early today? Where did you go?”
“I went out for some fresh air,” Winifred Dawson replied.
Fresh air at this hour? Mrs. Protich had doubts but didn’t ask further.
Mrs. Protich was still making breakfast; the porridge on the stove was boiling and almost overflowing. Hearing the noise outside, she hurried back into the kitchen.
Knowing Winifred Dawson’s weak constitution, Mrs. Protich had specially made fish porridge for her that morning. The fish was well-prepared without any fishy smell.
The porridge was soon ready and served with some pickles-this was Winifred Dawson’s breakfast.
Winifred Dawson liked porridge very much. After returning home, she sat at the table in a daze with an unhappy expression.
Sensing something wrong with the atmosphere, Mrs. Protich stayed out of sight in the kitchen until the porridge was ready. She then brought out a bowl along with chopsticks and a spoon.
“Miss Dawson, the porridge is ready; eat it while it’s hot.”
Winifred Dawson took a spoonful of savory fish porridge that tasted very good. Good food can lift one’s spirits; she ate several more spoonfuls in succession.
Seeing Winifred Dawson eat half a bowl made Mrs. Protich feel relieved until suddenly Winifred covered her mouth and gagged before pushing back her chair and rushing to the bathroom.
Mrs. Protich’s expression went from stunned to panicked as she stood helplessly outside hearing retching sounds from within. Clenching her hands tightly, she worried whether something was wrong with her cooking-the fish tasted fine when she tried it earlier; maybe she missed some bones? But this vomiting didn’t seem like choking on fish bones either.
With the door closed tightly behind Winifred Dawson for quite some time now and only water sounds coming from inside eventually breaking Mrs. Protich’s patience who knocked gently: “Miss Dawson are you alright? Do you need me to take you to hospital…”
Before finishing speaking, the door opened revealing pale-faced Winifred who looked exhausted struggling even walking properly breathing heavily
“I’m fine,” rasped Winifred
“Do you still want some porridge?” asked Mrs. Protich cautiously stepping back seeing how weak she looked
Having just thrown up there was no appetite left. Winifred shook head,”No more”
“If not porridge then maybe something else, you can’t skip meals, it’s bad for health”
Without answering which implied agreement, Mrs. Protich seeing how frail she seemed wanted offer support but hesitated eventually preparing fruits placing them before handing warm water hoping ease discomfort