The moment I saw Phipps at the parking lot today, something felt off. I hadn't been around for a few days, and the one day I decide to show up, so does Phipps-and bam, trouble is waiting. It was as if someone had orchestrated the whole scenario. I cornered the guy I'd just decked, blocking his car. "Spill it. Who sent you guys to mess with us today?"

The guy's face was a mess, half-covered in blood. A sight like that would've sent the old me running, but somewhere along the way, I'd become as tough as nails.

"I've got no clue what you're talking about," he stammered, eyes wide with fear.

Though I'm not one to promote violence, it sure has a way of getting people to talk. A well-aimed ashtray to his head got him cooperating.

I couldn't help but chuckle as I scanned the area, catching the guy's eyes as he tried to shrink back. "Ms. Hudson, please, don't make this harder on me."

"Just talk, and we won't have a problem," I told him, locking eyes.

"I can't... If I do, I'm dead," he blurted out, desperation clear in his voice.

I knew he was scared of retaliation. I smiled softly. "How about this? You just nod or shake your head to my questions."

"Ms. Hudson..."

"It was the Wagner family, wasn't it?" As soon as the words left my mouth, his body stiffened.

Got him.

After a brief pause, I threw out another name: "Conrad."

"Ms. Hudson..." Now he was truly panicking.

Bingo. I hadn't guessed Dustin because if Dustin wanted to test Phipps or me, he'd use someone from his own circle, not this guy.

"Ms. Hudson, for the love of God, don't go after Mr. Conrad. If you do, I'm a dead man," he pleaded, no longer trying to cover his wound.

Ignoring his plea, I turned to leave. Through the rearview mirror, I saw him frantically dialing a number, probably warning Conrad about our little chat.

Conrad was clearly trying to

embarrass Phipps, maybe to show me Phipps's vulnerable side, to convince me he wasn't Ernest and to give up on whatever I was holding onto. The lengths he'd go to

QUMS

Just as I was seething with rage at the thought, a car engine roared to life, and two headlights cut through

the darkness, aiming stra

JMS

for me.

A bad feeling washed over me, and just as I tried to dodge, a strong force pulled me back.

I was yanked to the ground, rolling away from the oncoming vehicle.

When the car's engine sound faded, I finally saw who had saved me.

"Ernest..." The name almost escaped my lips, but I swallowed it back.

It wasn't Ernest. It was Phipps.

But why would he, of all people, save me?

As I was lost in thought, he gripped my hand, pulling me up before dusting himself off and offering me a hand.

"Thanks," I said, unable to match his rudeness, standing up to express my gratitude.

"Where's your car?" he asked.

I must've still been in shock because it took me a moment to respond. He added, "We need to go to the hospital."

His suggestion snapped me back to reality, immediately worrying he was hurt.

"You're injured?" I asked.

He didn't reply, just gestured for my keys.

I handed them over, and he quickly located my car with a press of the button. He started towards it, then paused, turning back to pull me along.

He drove us to the hospital, and once I had gathered my wits about me, I finally asked, "Why did you save me?"

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