"You recently bought a heart, didnt you?" Scout approached Myrtle and asked, her heart aching and unwillingness intertwining.
"Yes, I did! The only heart in the city that matches your mother was bought by me," Myrtle replied as she tidied her hair.
"Then could you transfer that heart to me?" Scout told herself to endure everything, her voice softened: "How much money do you want? Ill transfer it to you right now." She somewhat blamed herself for not being so impulsive just now. The heart was a life-saving symbol for her mother, and she couldnt give up on it!
"Money? Do you think I, Myrtle Wilson, would lack your bit of money? You want it, and Ill just give it to you? Who do you think you are?"
*Slap*
Myrtle got off the bed, stood up, and slapped Scout across the face, sternly saying: "And what was your attitude just now? Want to investigate me? Go ahead and investigate! Do you think I would be afraid?"
"To be honest with you, the accident between you and your father was manipulated by me! Your mothers accident was also manipulated by me!"
"But go ahead and tell him! Do you think anyone would believe you?"
"And... it was me who fell down back then, and then pretended to lie in bed for a year and a half!" Myrtle pushed Scout while shouting with wide eyes, "But so what? Atticus saw with his own eyes that it was you who pushed me down. What are you going to do about it? Say something! Why are you silent now! Speak up!"
Scouts dull appearance didnt relieve Myrtles anger at all. She grabbed Scouts neck with her left hand and with her right hand, she took the glass of water from the cabinet and splashed it on Scouts face, then shook the glass in front of Scouts eyes.
*Crash!* The glass fell to the ground, and then she forcefully pushed Scout to the ground. In an instant, the glass fragments on the ground cut her hand with one wound after another, and the water on the ground turned red.
Myrtle clapped her hands, turned back to sit on the bed, and looked down at Scout, yawning, "From a mad dog to a mute dog, its really interesting. If you want to beg, do it quickly, its not good for my skin to sleep too late!"
Scout gritted her teeth, endured the pain, and slowly stood up. After wiping away the remaining water on her forehead, she bowed and said in a hoarse voice, "Myrtle Wilson, I beg you! Please sell me that heart!"
"Ha! Who do you think you are? You beg me, and I have to sell it to you? Hmm?" Myrtle threw the hand cream on the cabinet, snorted, and said, "Or how about this? You take the fruit knife on my table and slash your face. Ill sell it to you at the original price of the heart, how about that?"
"Are you serious?" Scout turned and stared into her eyes, asking again, "Myrtle Wilson, you know how important this heart is to me. Playing this trick is meaningless. Unless you personally write a document, I will do as you just said immediately."
Myrtle smiled slightly, immediately dialed a contacts phone, and commanded, "Take a video of that heart and send it to me."
Within half a minute, Myrtle received the heart video. She clicked play and looked up at Scout with a strange smile on her face, "The heart is right here. Whether you believe it or not is your business. As for writing a document, thats impossible."
Scout clenched her fists, relaxed them after a long time, slowly reached for the fruit knife on the cabinet, and her slightly trembling movements still betrayed her panic at the moment...