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Chapter 231 by Twistinger

Who was it?

It's Rachel.

I didn't recognize the lady standing in front of us - or at least, not at first. Gone were the vividly dyed hair cut avant-garde and an outfit to match, replaced by a sensible auburn hairstyle and secretary uniform. But there was no mistaking the dose and a half of attitude burning behind the spectacles, despite the full head shorter than mine.

"Rachel?" we blurted, all at the same time.

"So you haven't forgotten me. I guess that deserves some thanks," shrugged Rachel, like she was trying visibly to appear nonchalant as she regarded us with a clinical glance. "...What happened to you?" she addressed my wife.

"Dance troupe accident. I could ask you the same question," Amy replied, a slight frown forming on her brow. "I thought you were planning on going into theatrics in Oxford."

"Hm? Oh, that. Didn't work out as planned. I ended up working under a branch in my parents' company. Chalk up another disappointment in my life," Rachel sniffed. Her gaze veered past me, though I swore I felt a jab of piercing aggression despite the way she was obviously avoiding direct eye contact. "Looks like you're all doing well enough, all things considered."

"What do you want, Rachel?" I turned upon hearing Talia speak up, oddly firm in her demeanor. "I thought I told you to leave my friends out of this."

"I think we both know it's not a question about what I want," Rachel hissed icily. "...You have my heartiest congratulations."

I tried to come up with a response, but my head was buzzing with too many questions and no easy way to broach them. The sight of Rachel stiffly walking away finally seemed to spark something in Amy, as she pounded the grip of her wheelchair, shouting after the retreating redhead. But it wasn't until I turned back to Talia that I realized that something was clearly wrong - the brunette was hunched over, shaking as her face scrunched up with effort not to break down in front of us.

"The hell was that all about?!" scowled Amy, but her expression softened when she looked at me. "Ian?"

"We need to go," I muttered.

What happens next?

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