Fake heiress Real heroine

Chapter 145 After that night, many of the women finally found clarity. One by one, with the help of the bond police, dey on journey home.

There were still countless hardships waiting for them ahead, but the beauty of the bonfire and the vast grasslands that singer gave them a sliver of courage to face whatever was to come.

Quinlyn also took Joseph's words to heart.

On the way back to the city, she made a call to Yanis Hill, who was managing the foundation, and asked him to do s special fund to support victims in borderlands.

Even if they had nowhere else to go, she wanted to make sure they'd have a safe place to wart over Three days later. A convoy of luxury cars rolled into the poor, run-down village.

Tucker Lee-the human trafficker who had tormented Nancy-had been arrested two days ago during the foul phase of the operation. Several other families in the village were also under investigation for their involvement in human trading, The village was already on edge, a place thick with fear and uncertainty. The villagers standing watch at the exe tense at the sight of the vehicles approaching.

But when the car doors opened, they saw that the one got out was Quinlyn, the girl they hadn't seen in a long t"Quinlyn? It's really you! You... you went and becsrich people's daughter or something? The villagers clicked their tongues in amazement at her current appearance. They crowded around, bombarding her with questions, stealing glances at the luxury cars and the three young men by her side.

"If you had a chance like this, why didn't you tell us? We could've all gotten rich together. How about coming to my house for lunch?” the village head chimed in, squeezing closer with an ingratiating smile, trying to build a connection But Quinlyn ignored all the villagers. Without saying a word, she led Joseph and the others toward Matthew's grave Although, calling it a "grave” was a stretch. There wasn't even a proper tombstone-just a cheap wooden coffin buried beneath the earth.

On a low slope, the wooden board Quinlyn had once set there with her own hands had been kicked aside. It was covered in footprints.

"Definitely spunk kid," Stanley muttered darkly. "How rude. How can this little bastard disrespect the dead? I'll go find whoever did this!" He knew how much Matthew had meant to Quinlyn, and he was furious on her behalf, already turning to go after the villagers.

But Quinlyn reached out and stopped him. She shook her head and said, "Matthew once toldwhen a person dies. there's nothing left. They're buried in the ground and they know nothing. So don't get into fights with others because of him." Hurting the living for the sake of the dead-there was nothing more pointless than that.

'But still... he was your family! Stanley clenched his jaw, his expression dark with anger he couldn't quite swallow.

Quinlyn picked up the broken piece of wood, carefully carved the letters on it once again, and placed it back where it belonged. She sat quietly in front of the grave for a while.

11:54 Wed, 26 Mar Chapter 145 She hadn't brought anything with her. But Stanley and the other two had all brought flowers-each carrying a simple bouquet, which they now placed neatly in front of the crude marker.

70 458 "Matthew," Stanley said first, his tone solemn, "I'm Quinlyn's brother now. Not by blood, but it doesn't matter. From now on, I'll take care of her." "My name's Joseph," Joseph added. "I'm also Quinlyn's brother. Thank you for raising her. She's an incredible girl. If you can see her now, I think you'd be proud." "Mr. Sheppard," Larry said, "I'm not the smartest guy out there, but I swear-if I have something to eat, Quinlyn will never go hungry. Next year, I'll bring her back to visit you again." Quinlyn lifted her head in confusion, watching the boys chatting away to the grave marker like they were having a normal conversation.

She was tempted to remind them that the dead couldn' Matthew.

"sen ything. Even if they could, they were still strangers to On their way down the hill, a light drizzle began to fall from the sky. Stanley suggested they go take a look at the place where she used to live. So Quinlyn led them around a bend, beneath a giant old tree.

Behind the tree stood a long-abandoned small chapel. Inside, it was pitch black. Cobwebs stretched across every surface, and the faint squeaking of rats echoed from the corners.

"What the hell-weren't you gonna take us to your house?" Stanley, who wasn't afraid of anything-except rats- crossed his arms over his chest, his skin breaking out in goosebumps. "Why did we cto this haunted dump?" Without reacting, Quinlyn dragged two old chairs out from under a table and calmly said, “This is where I lived." Stanley opened his mouth to say something, but nothing cout.

ed and The three boys lifted their heads to look around: a ceiling blackened by fire. Walls with peeling paint. A table, p repaired, that once served as an altar. Two battered stools. And in the corner, two beds-one big, one small-covered in dust.

They had grown up in privilege: fine clothes, soft beds, everything they wanted at their fingertips. It was impossible to imagine how Quinlyn could survive in a place like this.

But Quinlyn had lived here. From the day Matthew found her, she'd lived here, growing up alongside an old man whose nno one remembered.

And when Matthew died-when she was only five- She spent another five years alone in this ruined chapel.

"I... I need sair," Stanley turned abruptly and strode outside, not caring that the rain was soaking him through. He stood under the tree, clenching his fist, and slammed it hard into the trunk. 'What the hell did I say earlier?' Joseph and Larry-normally the two most fastidious about cleanliness-sat down without a second thought in the dusty old chairs. They asked Quinlyn about how she'd arranged her things in here.

When they noticed the scorched doorpost, they saw shallow markings carved into the wood-height measurements, recorded year after year as Quinlyn slowly grew taller. Life had been harsh, but Matthew had truly cared for her.

In the mountains, the rain often fell without stopping.

Seeing no sign of it letting up anytsoon, and with a lunch appointment at Marvin's place waiting, they decided not to linger any longer.

11:54 Wed, 26 Mar Chapter 145 94% +58 But as they rushed back to the car through the rain and reached for the door handles, a group of villagers suddenly rushed out and blocked their path.

"Quinlyn! You're rich now-you can't forget about us folks back in the village. We all watched you grow up!" "Our lives are still hard. How about you give us smoney, so every family here can get a piece of it?" Quinlyn hadn't intended to pay these people any attention. But the moment they mentioned money, she immediately tensed. Without hesitation, she said, "Why should I give you any of my money?"

'She is still the sgreedy, stingy brat as before. The villagers exchanged uncomfortable glances, grinding their teeth in frustration. Seeing that she wasn't about to compromise, they shoved the village head forward.

The village head, shifty-eyed, gave Joseph and the others a once-over. Then he leaned in close to Quinlyn and whispered, "You'd better hand over the money, or I'll tell these city boys everything you did in the past." As he spoke, his hand started to reach toward her.

The next second, Quinlyn twisted his arm behind his back and slammed him face-first against the car. "What exactly were you planning to say?" she asked, her voice low and cold.

"You..." The village head hadn't expected her to act so fast-without caring about the tor place.

And before he could say another word, Quinlyn pulled a box cutter out of her pocket and pressed the blade directly against his carotid artery.

She didn't waste a single word. "You want to steal my money?"

'Damn it! I was negotiating-threatening-how is that so hard to understand? The village head was on the verge of tears. He suddenly realized that Quinlyn was still the sgirl who'd go berserk at the mere mention of money. The hope of blackmail evaporated. The villagers, caught in her icy gaze, quickly stepped aside, not daring to block her any longer.

"Mommy, you said I could ride in that car-mmph!" A child's voice suddenly piped up from the crowd, only to be quickly muffled by someone's hand.

Quinlyn turned toward the sound. It was the chubby boy. She walked over and looked down at his shoes. "You were the one who wrecked the grave marker I carved, weren't you?" She recognized the tread pattern on his soles instantly.

Before the boy could open his mouth, Quinlyn had already pulled out her knife. She grabbed the boy's mother by one finger and wrenched it backward-hard. The blade cdown without hesitation.

A piercing scream echoed down the muddy village road as the boy watched, wide-eyed, his mother's severed finger dropped from her face to the ground.

Quinlyn's voice was calm, almost casual. “You're a child. If you do something wrong, your parents will pay the price. Don't touch my things ever again." With that, she turned and climbed into the car.

The villagers stood frozen, watching her figure disappear into the vehicle. And only then did it hit them, Quinlyn was still the most feared, most ruthless lookout in the borderlands.

26 Mar mmMwWLlilofiflo&1 mmMwWLlilofiflo&1 mmMwWLlilofiflo&1 mmMwWLlilofiflo&1 mmMwWLliIofifl0&1 mmMwWLlilofiflo&1