Try Begging - Chapter 152.1

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Still, she had overlooked one crucial detail in her haste.

Christmas was a public holiday.

Adding to that, Christmas had fallen on a Friday that year. Consequently, the Royal Heritage Bank did not open until December 28th, three days after Christmas, by which posters searching for her were already widespread throughout the capital.

By then, she suspected that warrants would have been thoroughly issued at borders and ports, prompting her to abandon plans for fleeing overseas.

At least for now.

She planned to try it again after giving birth. A pregnant woman crossing the border was uncommon, but a young woman was not. She thought she might even feign blindness to disguise the distinctive color of her eyes.

The problem was the need for funds to sustain her until the birth. The money she had received from Nancy Wilkins and what she had stolen from an underground safe would not suffice to cover hotel stays until the birth.

Renting a place and staying put for an extended period was too risky without someone to provide supplies. Moving in and out would eventually attract local attention, increasing her chances of being caught by that man.

So, she decided to wait until people grew tired of the posters and lost interest completely before seeking a more permanent residence in a large city.

Until then, hotels were her only option, and it was fortunate she had an inheritance.

Her mother had left her thirty 2-carat diamonds and twenty 1-troy ounce gold bars, totaling less than 1kg, which could be converted into enough cash to buy up to six new houses in the suburbs of a major city.

With the cash she had and the money from selling the gold bars, she had more than enough to fund her escape abroad. The sharp rise in gold prices over the past few years had been an unexpected stroke of luck.

Involuntarily wandering the country, Grace decided to engage in a more productive activity: locating and reporting the remnants of the hideouts.

“Just treat the past as the past, and live your life.”

Just a little more to go.

Grace had intended to live only for herself, remaining on no one’s side.

Still, seeing the remnants of the rebellion communicate through newspaper ads to rebuild their forces, she couldn’t stand idly by. She was the only one who knew their methods well enough to stop them. So, she decided to help that bastard Leon Winston until she could leave.

“D*mn it…”

Grace sighed deeply, looking down at her large belly.

‘Wish you’d hurry up and come out…’

The child was going to be left behind.

No matter how she compared reasons, there were more reasons to leave the child than to take it with her. In fact, the only reason to take the child was the uncertain and illogical justification of, ‘I gave birth to it, so…?’

That odd sense of responsibility, unknown where it came from, was nothing but uncomfortable for her. It wasn’t even a child she had wanted to bring into the world in the first place.

Responsibility should come from those who created it willingly.

She vaguely thought about giving the child to that man after giving birth.

Moreover, she had a premonition that the child would be more than she could handle on her own. The child had been quiet when she bought a cheap turkey sandwich for lunch but danced joyously in her belly when she had an expensive salmon dish in the train’s dining car.

“Unbelievable. Such a picky eater, just like…”

Grace stopped talking to herself and sighed again.

But that man, would he really be a good father? The child was just a pawn in a military strategy, a means to keep her captive. It was unlikely he could genuinely feel proper affection.

That man, after all, didn’t know how to love properly.

Being raised under his father, without a mother, this child was an illegitimate child from the start. Eventually, when that man gave up on her and married the Grand Lady, it was clear the child would be reduced to an unwanted burden.

…Should she just send the child to an orphanage? Or maybe find a good family for it herself?

For the first time, Grace felt she could somewhat understand her mother’s feelings.

“I should have sent the child to an orphanage…”