Chapter 147
I Don''t Know Him Raegan couldn''t bring herself to turn Henley down, so with a hint of reluctance, she
agreed to call himter.
Once Henley departed, Raegan called for a taxi and set off directly for the cemetery.
This rural cemetery, unlike the orderly urban ones, was a patchwork of simple dirt graves.
Nheless, Raegan had ensured her grandmother''s resting ce was marked with a tombstone.
Upon discovering the tombstone smeared with red paint, rage surged through Raegan, shaking her to
the core, She paid a visit to a nearby family, residing close to the cemetery, and inquired about the
incident.
The family, unfamiliar with Raegan, remembered her grandmother well.
Learning Raegan was her descendant, they revealed a viger was responsible, iming an unsettled
debt.
This viger, they said, had faced their attempts to mediate, but his troublesome reputation prevented
further confrontation.
Raegan, unaware of any debts her grandmother might have had, was filled with increasing
exasperation.
Yet, cleaning the defiled tombstone took precedence.
She borrowed cleaning tools from the family and set to work on the grave, tears apanying her
efforts.
With resolve hardening amidst her grief, she silently pledged to seek justice for her grandmother.
After restoring the grave''s dignity, Raegan entrusted the family with two thousand dors, assigning
them the care of the site and requesting updates on any troubles.
The family epted, their own financial straits binding them to this ce.
Raegan then obtained the address of the viger and began her search in town.
But before she could locate him, a call from Mrs.
Barton, her neighbor, interrupted, informing her of a mob intent on demolishing her house, with even
the property''s owner on site.
Rushing to the scene, Raegan arrived to find a throng of people and the police already engaged.
The property''s owner, spotting Raegan, sourly dered, "Raegan, we are neighbors.
We bought this house from your uncle.
You wanted to rent it and we''ve agreed.
But your collusion with your uncle has led to deception.
We don''t want to rent to you now.
Make it clear to everyone that you and your uncle have no ims here." Confusion gripped Raegan.
Since Brent’s detainment after the hospital incident, she had no contact with him.
Before Raegan could seek rification, she was yanked to the ground by her hair.
"Enough! Pay back the money now!" A young police officer present at the scene stepped in and
attempted to keep things calm.
"Let''s find a peaceful solution.
There''s no need for violence,” he urged.
The property''s owner had summoned the police against these troublemakers who refused to vacate the
property she had legally acquired, despite her having all the necessary documentation.
Raegan''s gaze lifted, and she found herself face-to- face with the very image of that notorious viger,
the one who disrespected her grandma''s grave.
Rage boiled within her as she demanded, “Did you desecrate my grandmother''s grave?” This very
troublemaker’s face remained unrepentant as he scoffed, “What if I did? Would you have bothered to
return otherwise? You little bitch, conspiring with Brent to swindle us, the hardworking folk.
That was our life''s savings for retirement!" Beside Raegan, a young police officer filled her in.
Not too long before, Brent had rolled into town in avish car, boasting of fortunes made elsewhere.
He had persuaded the vigers to invest, promising returns, and put this house up as coteral.
Unbeknownst to the folks, he had already sold the house out, which was ironic considering Raegan
was now its tenant.
Brent had vanished into thin air.
The air was thick with usations, painting Raegan as Brent''s aplice in the deception of the
vigers.
Recognizing the dispute at hand, and the fact that the money was given willingly to Brent, the police
officer admitted the need to locate Brent was paramount.
But Brent was a ghost, and wrath turned toward Raegan.
The police officer tried to mediate, to calm the mes of me directed at Raegan, stressing Raegan''s
innocence regarding Brent''s scheme.
Confusion reigned among some vigers, who questioned if their investments would return with Brent''s
capture.
The police officer''s face clouded with sorrow as he exined the grim possibilities, "If Brent had funds
to return, there was hope.
Otherwise, imprisonment awaited him, and those money was as good as gone.” Despair then seized
the scene.
Many vigers, advanced in years and limited in their ability to work, faced the stark reality of being
penniless,cking even for potential medical needs, their futures bleak.
A woman''s sorrow erupted, her savings eroded in her tears on the ground.
Even as Brent got away with the money, a train of mix -ups urred as a result of Raegan’s decision
to rent the house.
As Raegan absorbed the depth of the disaster, she implored the crowd, "How much did Brent take from
you?" This simple question sparked a flicker of hope.
Raegan, known for her job at Ardlens and her university education, was assumed to be their beacon of
sess.
They presented Brent''s promissory notes, and Raegan''s quick tally estimated a staggering three million
dors lost by over twenty households.
Due to leaving here at a young age to pursue her education, Raegan didn''t know many of her rural
neighbors.
Yet their simple attire and sincere expressions spoke volumes of their lifelong toil.
Years ofbor had yielded them a nest egg, now plundered by Brent.
Raegan''s lips formed a tight line as she dered, "Listen up, everyone.
I''ll contribute to settling Brent''s debt this time, but should he swindle you again, I''ll just stand by since I
have no part in his dealings all the time.” The young police officer offered reassurance, "Fear not,
Brent''s misdeed has been spotlighted and circted in town.
He won''t fool anyone again.” The vigers, filled with hope, said in unison, "Fine.
Give back our money, then.” Raegan faltered momentarily, confessing, "The funds aren''t on hand at
this moment.
To amass your dues, I must sell my apartment in Ardlens." Her apartment, burdened by a mortgage,
would her approximately 1.8 million after the sale.
The surplus would need to be gradually earned from her earnings over time.
This revtion soured the crowd''s mood.
N?velDrama.Org holds this content.
"You vow repayment, yet now speak of asset sales.
Is this another ruse?" The troublemaker chimed in loudly, "Family ties run deep.
She''s likely a con artist, same as Brent.” The crowd''s restlessness surged, their advance unchecked by
the young police officer.
In the midst of the turmoil, Raegan climbed atop a chair,manding, "Stop arguing." Silence fell, all
eyes on Raegan.
"Do your arguments solve your money problem?” Raegan continued, firm and clear, "I''ve given my
word to resolve Brent''s debt and I intend to keep it." Raegan''s striking presence, at odds with the local
rusticity, lent her words a persuasive gravity.
An elderly woman pressed, "We demand a timeline.
When shall the money be ours?" Raegan expressed regret, "I can''t give you a date, yet I assure you, I''ll
hasten the process.” Privately, she knew the t’s sale wouldn''t be swift, and a shortfall loomedrge.
Her job’s sry would have to suffice for the incremental repayments.
The troublemaker couldn''t resist saying, "See? She''s fooling you.
Don''t be fooled by a pretty face.
She''ll vanish once she hits the city." The calm was shattered once again by the rising mor.
Raegan, however, realized this troublemaker hadn''t yet presented Brent''s promissory note.
So she confronted him, "Has Brent indeed borrowed from you?” He asserted confidently, "Certainly."
"How much?" Under her scrutiny, the troublemaker wavered.
"Eight hundred thousand." Raegan''s skepticism was palpable.
The cemetery''s whisperings had painted this troublemaker aszy.
He was unlikely to amass such wealth.
It smacked of opportunistic deceit.
"And the promissory note?" Raegan pressed.
Caught without one, the troublemaker bluffed, "No note.
I im eight hundred thousand, so it is.” Raegan retorted, "Do we just trust your words?” Raegan faced
the police officer, her voice steady, "Someone flung red paint over my grandmother''s tombstone.
I''ve captured the mess in photographs and can bring forth witnesses.
I''m filing a police report this instant.
Moreover, I doubt Brent ever borrowed money from this man.
He''s clearly seizing the chance to bully me for cash.” Caught off guard, the troublemaker was left
reeling.
The notion of him possessing eight hundred thousand seemed ludicrous.
He was merely scouring for a chance at easy money.
His anger surged, oblivious to the young police officer''s presence.
Heshed out at Raegan, yanking her hair and hurling her toward the wall.
The sudden violence left everyone frozen, too shocked to intervene.
Raegan''s head throbbed from the rough pull, and as the wall loomed closer, she braced for the blow,
squeezing her eyes shut.
Then, a loud thud echoed, but the pain wasn''t as searing as she feared.
Raegan felt a familiar warmth envelop her and peered open her eyes to Mitchell''s stern profile.
Disoriented, she gazed into his dark, piercing eyes, half-believing it to be an illusion.
Mitchell''s presence was unexpected and bewildering.
She recoiled on instinct, but his firm grasp steadied her, and she found support against him.
Meanwhile, the troublemaker was restrained by the police officer, his form pressed to the ground.
"Do you require medical help?" the police officer inquired.
Raegan shook her head, feeling a slight spin, but declined any medical aid.
As the authorities began escorting the troublemaker to the station, their attention drifted to Mitchell.
The officer, uncertain, turned to Raegan.
"Are you acquainted with this man?” "Yes." "No." Their conflicting answers slipped out in unison.
A shadow crossed Mitchell''s features, his hand balling into a fist, knuckles bleaching with tension.
He felt he was an idiot who came here to offer help to her.