THE LOST HEIRESS RETURNS AFTER DIVORCE
Chapter 51: No escape

Chapter 51: No escape

Heather crawled through the narrow vent until she reached an opening. Carefully, she pushed the grate aside and slipped out.

But as soon as she stood up, she realized with horror that she had landed right behind the same crowd she was trying to escape.

She froze in place. Her sunglasses had slipped slightly down her nose. The fans were still gathered at the restroom entrance, not noticing her yet.

Heather took a deep breath, adjusted her glasses, and started walking slowly in the opposite direction, trying not to draw attention.

As she turned a corner, she accidentally bumped into a little girl holding an ice cream cone. The cone slipped from the girl’s hand and fell to the floor with a soft splat.

The girl looked down at it, her lip trembling, then looked up at Heather. Her eyes widened in shock, then turned back to the ice cream.

Luck was not on Heather’s side.

"My ice cream!" the girl yelled, pointing at Heather with an accusing finger.

Heather winced.

"I’m so sorry," she said quickly, reaching for her purse. "Here, let me—"

But it was too late. The girl’s crying had already attracted attention. A nearby woman, who seemed to be the girl’s mother, turned around at the sound. Her eyes landed on Heather, and she gasped.

"Oh my goodness," the woman said, holding her chest. "It’s Miss H!"

The crowd turned all at once, and their eyes locked on Heather. The murmurs rose into a wave of voices, and then, like a spark hitting dry grass, the fans surged toward her.

Their cries grew louder, more desperate, as if they could sense her slipping away.

Heather felt like she was trapped in a zombie movie.

She didn’t wait. She quickly pulled some cash from her purse and tossed it toward the girl before turning and running toward the stairs.

As she ran, she grabbed her phone and dialed Marcus.

"Marcus," she panted, "get the car ready. I’m on my way down."

"Understood," he said. "Alex is with me. We’ll meet you at the front entrance."

Heather hung up and pushed herself to run faster, even in her heels. Her legs were burning and her breathing, jagged, but she could see the front doors ahead.

A few more steps is all... Just as she approached the main doors—

"Miss H!!"

The shout hit her like a gunshot.

THUD.

Something—no, someone—slammed into her from the side with brutal force. She felt the collision rattle through her bones.

Even her heel twisted as she flew sideways, hitting the cold, hard floor with a heavy thud.

Pain exploded in her hip, her elbow scraped harshly against the tiled ground, her bag tumbled out of her hands, scattering its contents—phone, wallet, lipstick—across the floor.

And air rushed out of her lungs.

For a moment, she couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe.

And the world sounded muffled, like she was underwater. Her heart thudded against her ribs.

She blinked up at the ceiling, dazed, trying to gather her senses. Heather rolled over, trying to gather herself, but the noise around her was loud and disorienting.

Her vision was blurred, and everything sounded distant. The fan who had crashed into her groaned nearby, also on the floor.

But Heather barely noticed. She turned her head, wincing, and saw the crowd.

The rest of the crowd was still running toward her, shouting her name, completely ignoring the fact that she was down.

Their eyes locked on her.

Heather’s fingers scrambled across the floor, grasping for her phone, her bag—anything. But it was all too far.

Her legs trembled as she pushed herself up. The pain screamed from her side, but adrenaline screamed louder.

Her eyes darted to the front entrance—there was no car in sight. She struggled to her feet, blinking through the pain, trying to get her balance.

She turned, limping now, and spotted an exit door tucked at the edge of the hallway.

Without thinking, she ran toward it, slamming her shoulder into the handle and pushing through into the indoor parking lot.

She turned back and slammed the door shut, and grabbed a nearby plank from a janitor’s corner.

With shaking arms, she wedged it into the door handle, creating a makeshift barricade.

She stepped back, watching the door begin to tremble violently under the pressure of the crowd pushing against it, trying to force their way through.

She stood frozen, staring at the door as it shook under the pressure, one hand gripping her ribs, the other pressed to her head. She tried to breathe, but it came out in short, gasping bursts.

She knew the plank wouldn’t hold the door very much longer and she needed to leave; she looked around, the parking lot was dim and there weren’t much cars parked.

Where was Marcus? Where was the car?

Her heart sank when she realized—her bag and her phone had fallen back there when she got knocked down.

She had no way to contact anyone now. The crowd could break through at any moment, or worse, find another way in.

Her knees gave out and she collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath as she watched the door.

"Heather?"

Her entire body stiffened. She closed her eyes because she didn’t want to look or face whoever it was. Maybe if she stayed still enough, they’d walk away.

She wasn’t supposed to be Heather right now—she was Miss H. How did they recognize her? Maybe they are guessing and haven’t seen her face. Maybe—

Her hand flew to her eyes.

No sunglasses.

They must have fallen off in the chaos. She closed her eyes and turned her head slightly.

Standing there, just a few feet away, was Caius.

What was he even doing here? Why was he of all people here?

Heather felt like the ground should swallow her. She couldn’t even move, all she could do was just stare, still frozen. This was exactly what she was avoiding; and now, it was what she got.