No one knows how long she cried; the night sky seed even more desolate, and the moon had already set in the west.
Jasmine Yale stood up, dragging her heavy steps back to her room.
She sent the resignation letter she had written earlier to HR.
Erin Janus was right; the Jas Group branch company belonged to her, and if she shalessly continued to work there, she would be the most disgraceful one.
After sending the email, Jasmine Yale dazedly thought of that sumr again.
If she hadn’t applied to the company, and Sylvan Cheney hadn’t co to the branch as president but instead went to the Old York Headquarters, they would have lost the chance to et.
She would have always believed he had passed away.
And he wouldn’t rember anything, starting a brand new life.
He was so clever, with such depth, his future was always boundless.
Jasmine Yale glanced at herself in the mirror... Her eyes were swollen, her face streaked with tears.
She got up to wash her face and lay wearily on the small bed, turning off the lamp.
But, the scenes in the photos haunted her like a curse, flying endlessly into her mind, those were all she could see with her eyes open or closed.
Jasmine Yale’s heart felt heavy.
In the bedroom, only the sound of her turning restlessly could be heard.
...
In the night.
She had no idea what ti it was.
Jasmine Yale was awakened by a sharp pain in her stomach.
She clutched the sheets tightly, sweat beading on her forehead and drenched her back.
"Butler Santana..." she called weakly, but her voice was too soft, and Butler Santana in the next room couldn’t hear her at all.
A spasm in her stomach, her legs cramped in pain, making her curl up in discomfort.
"Butler Santana, Butler Santana..."
Still, there was no response.
Jasmine Yale had no choice but to endure the pain and fumble for her phone in the darkness.
She found her phone by the pillow and made a call.
This ti, Butler Santana finally woke up, hurried to the next room, turned on the light, and was shocked!
Jasmine Yale looked pale, her forehead covered with sweat, her pajamas soaked and clinging to her body.
Jasmine Yale weakly extended a hand to Butler Santana: "Butler Santana..."
"Miss Yale, don’t move, don’t speak, I’ll take you to the hospital, don’t move." Butler Santana was truly frightened and hurriedly called the hospital’s ergency line.
She wiped Jasmine Yale’s face with a towel and quickly changed her into a clean set of pajamas.
Jasmine Yale couldn’t speak from the pain, her eyes tightly shut, holding her stomach with one hand.
"Miss Yale, it’s okay, everything will be alright." Butler Santana grasped Jasmine Yale’s hand, holding it tightly, only to find that Jasmine Yale’s hands were ice-cold, palms covered in cold sweat.
Jasmine Yale’s lips were pale, her face haggard.
The ambulance arrived quickly, and Butler Santana arranged a room for Jasmine Yale, waiting anxiously.
She calculated the days; it had only been over six months; the child couldn’t have an accident.
If sothing were to happen, the chances of a six-month-old baby’s survival were too slim, and the developnt would not be complete either.
No, no, nothing would happen, she was just overthinking.
Butler Santana prayed that Jasmine Yale would be safe and sound.
She knew that sothing was off with Jasmine Yale’s emotions in the morning and thought taking her out might help a bit, but in the end, sothing still happened at night.
Had she known sothing would happen, she wouldn’t have left her side for a mont.
It was just after two in the morning.
All was quiet, everything was silent, any slight sound was heard clearly.
Butler Santana was restless, pacing back and forth in the hospital room, her mind in a whirl.
Miss Yale’s child absolutely couldn’t be born prematurely, it simply couldn’t...
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