Stella readily agreed. “Sure, head on over. I’ll catch up when I’m finished here.”
Haley hurried towards the coffee shop, reaching for the glass door.
But it was heavier than she expected and wouldn’t budge.
Frustration bubbled within her.
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She dialed Kristian’s number, her voice laced with anger. “There hasn’t been an opportunity.”
“Just hurt her hand, Haley! Don’t get soft!” Kristian snapped back.
“Alright,” Haley muttered, hanging up.
Gazing intently at the door, a plan began to form in her mind.
Meanwhile, Stella emerged from the exhibition and went to find Haley.
She approached the coffee shop and reached for the door. It appeared stuck. She pushed again, using her other hand to brace herself.
Finally, the door cracked open. Just then, a figure darted from the other side, attempting to slam it shut.
Startled, Stella yanked her hand back, but it was too late.
The heavy door slammed into her right hand, sending a jolt of searing pain through her.
Blood gushed out instantly, staining the glass door.
Stella’s mind went blank. A searing pain stole her breath, and her legs buckled, sending her crashing to her knees.
Through blurry vision, she saw a man dressed like a homeless person mutter an apology before running away.
The shop assistant, alerted by the commotion, rushed out. “Miss, are you alrig
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ht?” he asked urgently, already dialing for an ambulance on his phone.
A crowd gathered, but no one stepped forward to help.
The assistant hung up and scanned the bystanders. “Someone, please!
Help!”
Seeing the scene unfold, a satisfied smile played on Haley’s lips.
Feigning concern, she grabbed her bag and hurried over. “Stella! What happened? Your hand! How did this get hurt?”
Her worried tone contrasted sharply with the furtive glance she cast towards the fleeing homeless man.
Stella, consumed by the throbbing pain, couldn’t form a coherent thought. Staring at her bloodied hand, she knew she was in big trouble.