Scarlett coldly observed Chris, noting that he didn’t fight back from start to finish, giving her a sliver of confidence in him. Scarlett wouldn’t have known what to say if Chris had hit his brother-in-law. A man having a temper wasn’t inherently wrong—there were cowards, intelligent men who used words over fists, and hotheaded types who resorted to violence over the smallest disagreement.
The people of the County had always been known for their brashness.
However, there was a vast difference between fighting others outside and hitting one’s wife at home. Scarlett had no respect for men who resorted to domestic violence.
William, now panting heavily, was finally pulled away by Chris’s brothers, who held him back as he flailed angrily.
William’s ferocity had even silenced the nosy villagers, who now avoided confrontation entirely.
Chris’s face was swollen as he spat out bloodied saliva.
“I won’t argue with you, but we need to talk about Scarlett. She shouldn’t have fought with her grandma—it upset her so much she’s fallen ill…”
Mrs. Whitaker had raised three sons as a widow, and Chris treated her with blind obedience.
Scarlett thought to herself that if she had been the original Scarlett, she would have been enraged by these words.
She felt a sense of attachment to Elizabeth and William because, in her previous life, she lacked familial bonds. But as for Chris? Scarlett felt nothing but indifference. Even if “Scarlett” owed the Whitaker family, she had repaid them with her life—what more could they want?
“Uncle, let’s go,” Scarlett said.
She had initially planned to give Chris a tongue-lashing but decided it wasn’t worth the effort.
Chris, seeing her calm demeanor, couldn’t suppress his anger.
“You ungrateful brat—”
He grabbed Scarlett’s arm, causing her to stumble.
Scarlett turned to face him, her expression cold.
“Grandma said my existence brings shame to the Whitaker family, and someone like me should just die. I cracked my skull open, and my mom knelt and begged Grandma to take me to the hospital. She banged her head until it was swollen before a doctor was called to stop the bleeding… If you think I’m not respectful or filial enough, should I just return this ‘borrowed life’ to the Whitaker family?”
Scarlett held a pair of scissors to her neck. The sharp blade pressed into her skin.
Her calm tone carried a terrifying intensity.
She would really do it!
Chris was stunned, instinctively trying to explain. “It wasn’t that serious… The family had no money to take you to the hospital. Why can’t you be more like Rosalie and understand the situation…”
Under Scarlett’s mocking gaze, Chris’s voice grew weaker.
Why didn’t the family have money? Because of the “understanding,” Rosalie had taken all of it with her. Even Chris, who habitually favored his niece, had to admit that the family matriarch might have been unfair in this case. Guilt mixed with other emotions, and Chris finally roared:
“She’s your grandmother! If she scolds you, you listen! If you hadn’t done shameful things, would she even have scolded you?”
Scarlett wasn’t really planning to die; she was far more tempted to use the scissors on Chris.
But before she could act, someone else did. Elizabeth, small and frail, threw herself at Chris, shoving the burly man aside.
“I’ll fight you all! You won’t bully Scarlett anymore!”
She was trembling from head to toe in fear.
But her maternal instinct to protect her daughter overpowered her terror.
