Rebirth Of The Forgotten Heiress - Chapter 37: Chapter 37

Quinlyn would never have guessed Yasin carried banana peels in his pocket. Even when stored in a bag, the peels inevitably turned to mush within an hour. The ones he carried now looked completely ruined.
"Quinlyn, hurry! Zachary's hurt." Yalena's voice rose from below, trembling with genuine distress. This might have been the first time she'd ever spoken to Quinlyn without a trace of pretense.
The cliff's depression measured less than thirty feet, with a gentle slope rather than a sheer drop. Their fall had been more of a rough slide than anything truly dangerous.
Quinlyn remembered how last time she had rushed in blindly, ending up with scraped and bleeding hands. This time, she maintained her composure as she called down to Yalena, "I can't pull you up. Why not use your wristband's emergency signal?"
Something about the situation felt wrong. The more Quinlyn changed events, the more the original storyline seemed to unravel.
This accident was supposed to happen much earlier, allowing their relationship to develop naturally rather than being forced into these final moments.
Quinlyn recalled why Yalena had failed to call for help last time—both her and Zachary's watches had been shattered in the fall.
Yet now, when Quinlyn pressed about the watch—the one she didn't spot on Yalena's wrist—Yalena stayed silent. That deliberate omission told Quinlyn there was more to the story.
Actually, Quinlyn had guessed right.
Their argument made Yalena realize she had to move quickly or lose everything.
After a brief hesitation, she split the pill in half. She intended to use one portion to get closer to him while saving the remainder for future needs. The reduced dosage, she calculated, would produce nothing more than mild flirtation between them.
He took it unsuspectingly, but then everything went wrong for both of them.
Zachary lay where he'd collapsed, hurt and drenched by the rain, his body burning with unnatural need. But between the pain and the haze of unconsciousness, he couldn't so much as twitch, let alone act on it.
Yalena couldn't bring herself to hit the emergency button. If anyone found out what happened—especially Logan—she'd be finished.
Yalena took in Quinlyn's cold expression and knew she wouldn't get any help. Clenching her fists, she glanced at her watch and tried a different tactic.
"Quinlyn, show some mercy," she begged. "Please help us up. Zachary's innocent. The longer we wait, the worse it gets for him."
The emergency alert blared to life. Yalena no longer cared if her plan succeeded—now, all she wanted was to ruin Quinlyn, to ensure Quinlyn could never become a Fletcher. She kept her eyes locked on Quinlyn, willing her to take the bait.
Quinlyn clicked her tongue and shot Yasin a sideways glance. "Just look at her face—it's practically broadcasting her scheme," she said to Yasin. "She might as well hold up a sign saying 'trap.' Honestly, who would be gullible enough to fall for this?"
Yasin remained silent. He reached into the bag, retrieved a banana peel, and with a casual flick of his wrist, sent it sailing straight onto Yalena's head.
A heavy silence followed, then a mechanical voice crackled through. "This is Yalena's emergency watch calling, please—"
The voice was cut off by a piercing scream that sliced through the air. Instantly, the seven searchers froze, their heads turning toward the east where the sound had come from. Without thinking, they all started running that way.
As the scream faded, Yalena fixed Quinlyn with a stare that laid her soul bare.
For the first time across both lifetimes, Quinlyn witnessed genuine hatred burning in Yalena's eyes. In Quinlyn's previous life, no matter how cruel Yalena's words had been, they'd always been wrapped in that trademark sweet smile, the perfect picture of a gentle sister.
"Yalena, are you all right?" The voice through the communicator grew increasingly frantic. They were already dispatching rescue boats to their island location at full speed.
Yalena had just opened her mouth to respond when Zachary's hand closed over her emergency watch.
His voice came through instead, sharp and commanding. "Stand down. Situation normal."
The moment the caller recognized his voice, the line went dead.
Her hands trembled slightly as she turned to Zachary. "Zachary, why did you..."
Zachary's knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists, his complexion ashen. "I'm fine," he ground out through clenched teeth.
He couldn't forget his deal with Logan—he had to handle everything himself. If help came too soon, he'd lose the bet. And losing meant he'd have to go along with whatever Logan wanted.
Pride flared hot in Zachary's chest. He'd sooner choke on his own blood than beg for leniency.
He was supposed to stay knocked out, but Yalena's scream jolted him awake. His blurry eyes scanned the area, stopping when they landed on the thrown-away banana peel—that familiar scene he'd seen before.
His head jerked upward, the sudden motion sending fresh dizziness through him. "Yalena!" The name tore from his throat, sharp with alarm.
"Heh, right here," she quipped, launching another banana peel with practiced ease.
The peel traced a graceful arc through the humid air before landing with a muted thwack atop Zachary's head.
A wry smile touched Quinlyn's lips at the eerie familiarity of the scene. Last time, Zachary's bellows had echoed through the air. This time, only oppressive silence answered, until Yalena's shrill scream pierced the drumming rain.
Quinlyn tilted her head toward Yasin, voice barely above a whisper. "This generation has gone soft. I didn't even lay a finger on them."
She looked at Yasin, who was standing beside her, fever-flushed but alert. He'd braved the storm to catch their meal, and then hauled her through the jungle without faltering—not when branches snagged them, nor when rain turned paths to mud.
Yasin's answering nod was barely perceptible.
Quinlyn was close to him, and when he looked down, he saw raindrops clinging to her eyelashes like tiny beads. Each time she blinked, the water droplets fell to the ground.
Through his feverish haze, he found himself strangely preoccupied with one thought - he wished he could find a comb tiny enough to carefully smooth her rain-dampened lashes.
Quinlyn swayed slightly as Yasin leaned into her, though she dismissed it as just another sign he wasn't feeling well.
Looking down at the couple, Quinlyn figured they'd worm their way out as usual. As the so-called villain in this scenario, she saw no reason to interfere.
She moved to lead Yasin back, murmuring his name. But the only response was the whisper of wind through the trees.
Quinlyn frowned and gave his shoulder a gentle shake. "Hey, hang in there. I was just saying how strong you are. Don't give up on me now..." Her voice faded into the thick silence.
His body had finally reached its limit.