Pampered By My Three Brothers: The Return Of The Neglected Heiress - Chapter 1580

Chapter 1580: As long as they get me out of here… I’ll do whatever they say.
Penny shook her head mildly, rolling her eyes. At this point, she wasn’t sure who to be frustrated with—Patricia, or herself for not being able to resist food.

In her defense, Mrs. Miller really did cook well. Not quite at Jessa’s level, but it was still good.

“Moving on…” she muttered, turning her attention to the files Wild had originally come to drop off.

She reached for them, taking a deep breath as a flicker of determination lit up in her eyes. Opening the file, her jaw tightened.

Inside were the documents detailing the incident involving her and Haines from many years ago.

It wasn’t a pleasant memory. Penny remembered something snapping inside her back then. Had it not been for Angel, she probably wouldn’t even be here today.

Her gulp echoed in her ears as she stared at the police report before flipping the page. Soon, she reached some printed photos—images of her injuries, bruises, and the aftermath of that day—all there to remind her of the pain.

“And I still somehow feel every strike I took that day,” she whispered, flipping further.

The next photos showed the place where they were nearly beaten to death. Blood was everywhere—some splattered, others smeared across the floor. But the most harrowing image was the pool of blood where Haines had almost bled out.

Then came graphic images of Haines’s injuries. One photo showed a bone protruding from his leg, the result of brutal torture. Penny’s fingers brushed over it, her stomach twisting, her breathing turning heavy. The next photo showed how his leg had turned black after being rushed to the hospital for emergency care.

There were also photos of both their faces—swollen and nearly unrecognizable.

If Penny had to describe it, it was hell.

No wonder Wild had been displeased when she asked for these files.

It had been a horrible time for everyone involved—Wild, Angel, Haines, Penny, and even Dean.

Anyone who saw these would wonder: How could a human being be capable of this?

“And to think I’ve had plenty of fights in prison,” she murmured. “And my face swelled like this too in my first life…”

Yet this pain felt different.

Penny let out a sharp huff and closed the file. Her gaze was sharp with resolve. She hadn’t asked for these just to relive the pain. She needed them for a reason.

These files weren’t for just anyone to see—but there was someone she wanted to show them to.

—

Some time later, at Anteca Correctional Facility…

Cassandra sat quietly in the room while others spoke. With her were her grandfather, father, and lawyer. Unlike her last visitation with Kiara, where the two were separated by a glass, these people were granted full access for a private discussion on their “strategy.”

“I’m filing another appeal tomorrow,” the lawyer said, finally looking at Cassandra. “This time, I’m sure it’ll be granted.”

Senator Smith nodded. “Once you’re out, expect media ambushes you outside the courthouse. Just remember to say what we discussed.”

Cassandra pressed her lips into a thin line, lifting her lifeless eyes to them. She didn’t speak—because she didn’t know what to say anymore.

“Cassandra.” Her father reached over and held her hand, offering a kind smile. “I know it’s been rough in here, but trust us. We’re doing everything we can to get you out.”

“That’s right, Miss Cassandra,” the lawyer chimed in. “The Senator and your father have been reaching out to everyone who can help. I’m sure it’ll bear fruit soon.”

Cassandra studied their expressions.

How could she forget that part of her life before this was spent studying people—their thoughts, body language, and the subtle truths hidden in their lies?

Unlike Kiara, who had visited earlier today, these people didn’t carry an ounce of the desperation Kiara had in her eyes. Not even the slightest of Kiara’s exhaustion, which she tried to hide… and the helplessness in her voice.

I wasn’t expecting them to lose sleep over me, she thought, scanning their faces. But they really do look like they’ve been sleeping well. Really well.

Cassandra almost laughed, but couldn’t bring herself to.

“You just need me to say…” she murmured, swallowing the tension in her throat, “…that I’m innocent, and this is just a smear campaign against the senator?”

“Yes,” the lawyer replied with a nod. “It may not change everything, but it will help sway public opinion.”

“Sway them how?” she asked quietly. “Their opinion of me, or their opinion of his campaign?”

A long, tense silence followed. Senator Smith frowned, clearly displeased with her question.

“Cassandra, don’t forget—you cut ties with us before your arrest,” he said firmly. “We didn’t have to do any of this. But because you’re family, we are.”

Mr. Smith, Cassandra’s father, looked nervous. “Father, Cassandra’s just tired. It’s stressful here. I’m sure she didn’t mean it like that.”

Actually, she had meant to get answers, but chose to stay silent.

“Cassandra, just do what the lawyer says, hmm?” her father said gently, squeezing her hand and nodding. “We’re appealing again. If it works, you’ll be out.”

Cassandra pressed her lips together and scanned their faces again. Then, she nodded—just to get it over with.

It wasn’t like she had a choice.

—

The trio stayed to discuss more strategy, but Cassandra felt herself drifting. Their voices grew faint, and before she knew it, she was back in her cell, the buzz of the facility ringing in her ears as the bars shut.

Lying on her bed, Cassandra stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t that late yet—probably just around dinner—but time worked differently in here. Without any windows, they relied on the lights beyond the bars to tell the time.

Tomorrow, she might hear good news. She might be released. But somewhere deep inside, she felt no joy. Nothing to look forward to.

As long as they get me out of here… I’ll do whatever they say.

With that thought, she closed her eyes and held on to the last hope she had. If the appeal was rejected again… she didn’t know what she’d do.

She hadn’t thought that far ahead.

And just like that, Cassandra spent another night in this small, stinking cell.

****

[Miller’s Home]

“I’m home!” Patricia called out, a habitual announcement as she stepped through the front door. The familiar scent of home immediately greeted her, the aroma of her mother’s cooking wafting in from the kitchen and bringing a smile to her face.

“Miss Patricia, let me take your bag.”

An elderly maid suddenly approached from the side, reaching for Patricia’s bag. Out of habit, Patricia handed it over—then paused, turning to get a better look at the woman.

Huh?

She blinked once, then again, instinctively pulling the bag back before the helper could take it. The abrupt motion made the older woman look up, surprised.

“Miss Patricia?” the maid asked, puzzled. Patricia tilted her head slightly.

“I haven’t seen you before,” she said slowly. “Are you new?”

The maid offered a subtle smile. “No, I used to come in on a schedule as part of the cleaning staff. But the Madam recently hired me to stay full-time since the household has been short on help.”

“Oh.”

“Please, let me take your bag. The Madam is in the kitchen.”

“Alright.” Patricia nodded and handed over her bag, though her eyes stayed on the woman as she walked toward the living area.

Her gaze narrowed slightly, her head tilting again.

Why does she look like that woman in the photo at Penny’s office? Just a little old and haggard?