On television, Janetta openly discussed her favorite wedding dress styles without the slightest hesitation.
She even casually mused about ideal wedding venues.
This level of brazenness had never been Janetta's style before.
Now, she was practically shouting her impending marriage from the rooftops.
The longer Helena watched, the deeper her silence grew.
She set the spoon down and reached for the remote, turning the TV off herself.
Janetta was basking in absolute triumph, while Helena couldn't even secure the evidence to prove who murdered her own baby.
Even though she knew the answer in her gut, what could she do?
Absolutely nothing.
The crushing sense of powerlessness...
It squeezed her lungs until she felt like she was suffocating.
She didn't even have a way to vent the agony.
Aside from the butler and the maids, she was entirely cut off from the human race.
In the end, she simply curled back up in the chair, returning to her frozen state.
Looking exactly as if she had fallen asleep.
Halfway through the afternoon, Sebastian called. The butler answered.
"Madam had some Tonic Broth, but she's just been sitting in the chair by the window. She hasn't moved," the butler reported truthfully.
Sebastian let out a low hum. "Did she say anything?"
"No, sir. She hasn't spoken a word, except to politely say 'thank you,'" the butler added.
Lately, Helena's entire vocabulary had been reduced to two words.
*Thank you.* And *Okay.*
Nothing else.
The butler debated whether he should mention the television broadcast he had witnessed earlier.
But the words died on his tongue.
Because when she watched it, she had just been so terrifyingly serene.
She hadn't shown an ounce of visible anger or sorrow.
"Keep a close eye on her. I will not tolerate any accidents," Sebastian ordered coldly over the line.
"Understood," the butler nodded.

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