Chapter 89: Helen Reed Clenched Her Fists

"Martin! Are we just going to let this go? That bastard Harold Martin gets to walk free?" Helen Reed clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She loathed the Martin family for ruining her daughter’s life. What decent man would want to marry Emily now?

Mayor Martin Reed sat in silence, chain-smoking, the ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts.

Helen’s muffled sobs cut through him like a knife. He had never felt so powerless. His wife couldn’t even cry openly, afraid of being overheard. If this scandal spread, not only would their family be shamed, but the entire Clark and Jackson clans would become the talk of the village.

"Say something! Are we just going to let our daughter suffer like this?" Helen wished she could stab Harold Martin herself.

Martin glanced at Emily’s closed bedroom door and lowered his voice. "First, we’ll take her to get rid of the baby. Harold won’t get away with this. As long as the Martins stay in this village, I’ll make them kneel and beg for forgiveness."

At his words, Helen’s tears fell harder.

But that very night, Emily vanished. Helen remembered Elena’s warning and panicked. If that foolish girl had gone to one of those back-alley clinics, she’d be risking her life.

Martin rallied relatives and friends to search for her. When Elena Ward returned to the village, she ran into Helen and her sister, Elizabeth, trudging back in defeat. After a full day and night of searching, there was no sign of Emily.

"Aunt Agnes, what’s wrong?" Elena was shocked. In just a few days, Helen had aged a decade—deep wrinkles framed her eyes, and her hair had turned half-gray.

The moment Helen saw Elena, tears streamed down her face. She grabbed Elena’s hands desperately. "Elena, Emily’s gone! How am I supposed to go on like this?"

Elizabeth Jackson gritted her teeth beside them. "If anything happens to Emily, I swear I’ll tear the Martin house apart! Harold thinks he can become a factory worker? In his dreams!"

Elena’s heart sank. Emily had taken the same path as before—despite her warning.

"Don’t panic, Aunt Agnes. Do you have any idea where Emily might have gone?"

Helen shook her head, her vision blurring as she nearly collapsed. Elena caught her just in time. The days of anguish had finally broken her.

"Yesterday, the Martins came to force Emily into marriage. After the argument, she disappeared... Elena, I’m afraid she might do something reckless..." Helen’s legs gave way.

Elena and Elizabeth quickly helped her home. The moment Helen lay down, she spiked a fever, murmuring Emily’s name in delirium.

When Martin rushed back and saw his wife in such a state, even the tough man’s eyes reddened as he crouched in the yard.

Elena’s chest tightened. In her past life, Emily had met her fate tonight. If she remembered correctly, Emily had gone to the illegal clinic in Shilipu—the one by the crooked tree the villagers said was cursed.

"Uncle Martin!" Elena pulled him up urgently. "On my way back, someone said they saw Emily heading toward Shilipu! Take the tractor and go now!"

Martin didn’t hesitate. He called for Paul Mercer, and within minutes, the tractor rumbled toward Shilipu with half a dozen men.

The night was pitch-black, the tractor’s headlights slicing through the darkness. Elena clung to the railing, praying silently: Please, let us make it in time.