Burn Me Once, Burn With Me novel Chapter 11

The car crept slowly down the narrow lane.

Adrian, clearly suspicious that the woman pushing the cart might really be Ruby, deliberately trailed her for several blocks, keeping a careful distance.

On the sidewalk, the woman cradled a swaddled baby close to her chest, one thin arm freed just enough to shove a heavy cleaning cart forward. The wind cut through her worn, puffy jacket and the thin, neon-bright vest she wore over it. Despite her layers, she shivered from the cold, her steps sluggish and faltering.

The weight of the cart forced her to hunch, pushing with obvious strain.

Suddenly, the car's tire rolled over a loose stone. The cleaning cart jolted violently and toppled.

She barely had time to tighten her grip around the baby before reaching out to steady the cart. But she couldn't hold on—the whole pile tipped, dragging her off balance. She crashed to the ground with a dull thud, her knees scraping against the pavement. For a moment, she just lay there, wincing, unable to gather the strength to get up.

Only the baby in her arms remained safe and sound, nuzzling against her for comfort, little head burrowing, searching for food.

The infant's lips trembled, about to collapse into a wail. Clearly, she was both hungry and scared. Ruby tried to hush her gently, rocking her with soft words, but it was no use.

Realizing that her mother wasn't giving her anything to eat, the baby's patience snapped and she let out a heart-wrenching cry.

The sound pierced the cold air, desperate and raw.

Ruby clenched her teeth, sweat beading on her brow as she summoned all the strength she had left to upright the spilled cart.

"I'm sorry, Mira," she whispered, voice hoarse with exhaustion. "Just a little longer. Hold on, sweetheart. Mommy will get you something to eat soon…"

The car had followed her for so long, she finally noticed and glanced warily over her shoulder.

Who was that? Just someone passing by?

Ridiculous.

How could a woman in such a sorry state possibly be Ms. Grayson?

Adrian didn't think so. He lost interest, pressed his foot on the gas, and sped away down the street.

In the back seat, Morgan Blackwood remained oblivious to Adrian's little investigation. His Bluetooth headset winked with a blue light as he spoke in crisp, unhurried English, conducting an international meeting with effortless composure. Every inch of him was immaculate, radiating the cold poise of someone born and bred for privilege.

The luxury sedan's wheels sloshed through a deep puddle, sending a sheet of dirty water splashing right over Ruby.

Of course, people who drive cars like that rarely spare a thought for the trouble they cause others.

But Ruby had no choice. She spun around, shielding Mira with her own back and taking the brunt of the cold water herself.

She whispered to her daughter, "Mira, did Mommy get it wrong?"

You lied on the stand. You sent me to prison with your own hands. I doubt you remember the woman you destroyed, the Ruby you left behind.

There was nothing left to feel anymore, not even bitterness.

Ruby tightened her hold on Mira, turned her face against the wind, and hurried her steps.

Twenty minutes later, they reached the staff dormitory.

With the little money she'd advanced from her wages, Ruby bought Mira a new bottle, sanitized it with boiling water, and mixed up a warm formula.

Mira, finally able to feed, clung contentedly to her mother's finger with her tiny, dough-soft hand.

Ruby wiped Mira's face with a damp cloth, and for a fleeting moment, she saw a shadow of him in the girl's features.

That man's face had always been sharp and severe, his eyes cold and distant, never a hint of a smile.

But Mira's smile was sweet and bright, her eyes crescent-shaped, like a sliver of moon hanging on a branch.

Ruby gazed at her, lost for a moment in the impossible contrast.