Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
Yunice tapped her chest emphatically. “The real value is in me, the person.”
Quinton scoffed. “What can a mentally ill girl do?” He was convinced she was bluffing to get away.
Yunice closed her eyes. “If you have a terminal illness, just tell me. I guarantee it’ll be more effective than your current brutal methods.”
The moment her eyelids closed, the guard beside her struck the gong again with a deafening clang.
“Enough!” Yunice snapped her eyes open, glaring with murderous intent.
Quinton watched in fascination. This fragile, unstable girl seemed to have another side to her, one he hadn’t expected. His interest piqued, he pulled up a chair and sat across from her. “You can treat illnesses?”
Yunice studied his face for a moment. “You don’t sleep well, do you? Three hours a night at most.”
“That’s normal for someone like me. That proves nothing.”
Yunice held out her hand. “Give me your wrist.”
Quinton complied. Leaning forward, she pressed her fingers to his pulse. In less than thirty seconds, she confirmed her suspicion. “You have a tumor on your pancreas.”
Quinton froze. He’d had a full body scan just two weeks ago. How could she be so sure of this?
Yunice leaned back. “Believe it or not. It’s not my problem if your stomach condition goes untreated.”
Quinton’s eyes narrowed. He did suffer from chronic stomach problems, but no tests had ever pinpointed the cause. Could the girl actually diagnose diseases?
Yunice then looked at the guard holding the gong and scoffed. “Stop overusing that hand. You won’t grow a second one when it’s ruined.”
The man flushed. Quinton realized she’d hit the mark again. If Yunice really had this ability… His expression darkened. Did this mean he really had a tumor?
Quinton looked at her with newfound seriousness. “Can you apply all the cases from the medical notebook?”
Yunice yawned. “I can, but traditional medicine requires flexibility based on the individual. Even with the…”
She locked eyes with him. “A millimeter’s deviation…,” her voice sharpened, “…leads to a thousand-mile error.” Medicine did not tolerate carelessness. In the wrong context, a life-saving remedy could become disposal.
Quinton’s face tightened. For the first time, he saw real sharpness in Yunice’s gaze. She was far more fascinating than Elsie.
“Mr. Quinton,” an underling rushed in and whispered to him.
Quinton’s brow furrowed. “What’s he doing here?”
Seeing his sudden tension, Yunice braced herself, but trapped in the chair, she was powerless. Then, with a metallic crash, the warehouse door was kicked open.
Quinton’s expression darkened. He motioned to his men and slipped out a side exit. The remaining guard fumbled with Yunice’s bonds, but before he could unlock them, a boot slammed into his side, sending him sprawling.
Taking advantage of the chaos, the man scrambled to his feet and fled, leaving Yunice behind. Dazed, Yunice looked up to see Jordan working on her locks. Everything happened too fast; it felt surreal, like a dream.
Only then did it dawn on her. Someone had come to rescue her. As she opened her mouth to ask how Jordan had found her, a tall figure stepped through the doorway, backlit by the harsh outside light. His strides were long but labored, his shadow stretching ominously across the floor.
Wyatt’s chest heaved violently. Only when he saw Yunice unharmed did his breathing calm. Yunice noticed his pallor, the sweat beading at his temples, and the exhaustion weighing on his eyelashes. He was clearly at the end of his rope.
Her heart clenched. Had he come here… for me?
“Ms. Saunders, can you walk?” Jordan asked, offering a hand after he had freed her.
Yunice stood quickly. “I can.”
Jordan exhaled in relief. “Good. Let’s get you out.” The moment she took a step, darkness swallowed her vision. Her knees buckled.
Jordan caught her instinctively, then tensed. His eyes darted to Wyatt. “Wyatt, l-” The rest was lost to the overwhelming events. Jordan carefully guided Yunice by the arm, keeping his grip respectful.
Wyatt fell behind and lifted his hand with a bitter smile. “I’m a cripple. I can’t even protect myself, let alone carry someone else.”
Inside the car, Yunice was laid down on the back seat. Jordan said, “Wyatt, she’s just tired. No injuries.”
Then he asked tentatively, “Should we take her to the hospital or send her back to the Saunders mansion?”
“The Saunders? They may not care, but there are plenty of people who do. Whoever finds her gets to keep her.” Wyatt let out a cold laugh.
“Not giving her back.” Wyatt tossed out the words and got into the car. The ride was smooth. But Yunice was clearly exhausted. She was sitting back at first, but soon enough, her head tilted and rested on Wyatt’s shoulder.
By the time they arrived at the hospital and Jordan opened the car door, her head had already slid down onto Wyatt’s lap. No one could tell if she moved there herself or if Wyatt had shifted her.
Wyatt brought Yunice back to his own hospital room and let her sleep in his bed. Paul was still tied to a chair and hadn’t been released. His hands were bound tightly behind him, like a crab trussed up for dinner.
When he saw Yunice being laid on Wyatt’s bed, he exploded. “Wyatt Cooper! And you say you didn’t hide her!” He struggled against the ropes. “I’m warning you, let us go now!”
Wyatt walked over and sat down next to Yunice, casually setting his cane aside. Seeing him so close to her, Paul roared, “Stay away from her!”
Wyatt’s eyes were mocking. “And what does how close I am to her have to do with you?”
Paul snapped back. “She’s got nothing to do with you either! If she were awake, she wouldn’t want to be near a cripple like you!”
The noise pulled Yunice slightly from sleep. She frowned and rolled over, her hand falling naturally onto Wyatt’s leg. Paul lost it. “Yunice, have you no shame?” He suddenly broke free from the rope on his wrist, jumped to his feet, and lunged at Wyatt with a punch!
After all, Wyatt couldn’t hit back, and no one stood up for him. Bullying him came without consequence. That’s how the Powell family had always treated him. Paul thought he could do the same this time.
But the sharp pain in his wrist hit before he even realized what was happening. The next thing he knew, he was yanked forward. And terrifyingly, Wyatt had a knife in his other hand-its tip pointed straight at Paul’s eye. He was about to crash into it, right into his face!
“Aahh!!” Paul’s eyes flew open in panic. The blade hovered just millimeters from his cornea, its cold edge making his pupil tremble.
“Wyatt!” Jordan rushed forward, grabbing Wyatt’s hand with the knife. His voice shook. “Wyatt, let him go just this once. He won’t dare touch you again!”
Paul was paralyzed with fear. His lips trembled nonstop, but he didn’t move an inch, terrified the blade would cut his eye. He looked at Wyatt with terror. The look in Wyatt’s eyes made it clear-he really could’ve killed me just now.
People in Silverburgh called Wyatt a madman. Only now did Paul truly understand why. He didn’t care about anything at all.
“Wyatt…” Jordan was genuinely afraid that Wyatt would kill Paul. Wyatt didn’t let go. Paul didn’t dare move.
Then came the voice of Jensen Powell. “Wyatt Cooper, what are you doing!”
Wyatt turned his head, eyes locked on the man who had rushed in. He clenched his teeth. “What do you think? I want to kill him.”
Jensen had originally planned to suppress Wyatt with his status, but recalling Wyatt’s capabilities now, he softened. “Paul is still young. As his uncle, do you really need to go that far?”
Wyatt sneered. “He’s twenty-one. Still young? Why don’t you take him home and let him suck on a bottle?”
Paul swallowed hard. Emboldened by his father’s presence, he snapped, “Watch how you talk to my dad, Wyatt Cooper!” To his surprise, Jensen shot him a glare, signaling him to shut up.
Paul didn’t understand. Why would Dad back down to Wyatt? With his son in Wyatt’s hands, Jensen had no choice but to soften his tone. “Taking Paul home was Mr. Jackson’s wish. You’re not going to disrespect him, are you?”
“Of course not,” Wyatt smirked and finally let go of Paul.
Paul scrambled to his feet. Now that he was free, he tried to regain his pride with a few harsh words. But before he could open his mouth, Wyatt grabbed his cane and swung it straight at Paul’s knee.
Crack. The sound of bones breaking rang out clear and sharp.
‘s Reckoning
Wyatt glanced sideways at Jensen with a smug look. “This is the face I’m giving.”
Paul was on his knees, clutching his leg. The pain was so intense, he couldn’t even scream.