Margaret Tucker AKA Lord Reaper novel Chapter 132

Clara couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her already pale face went completely white. "You must have heard wrong! It's freezing out here, and it's raining! Raymond would never leave me outside!"

"I'm sorry. Those were Mr. Tucker's orders."

Clara's whole body was shaking—and her heart felt just as cold.

A bad feeling washed over her, pulling her heart straight down into icy water.

No... no. Clara, stop overthinking. There must be a misunderstanding.

These servants are trying to make things hard for you. Raymond probably doesn't even know you're here.

He cares about you so much. He could never treat you like this.

You saved his life!

But the panic in her chest only grew, twisting into a heavy, sickening dread.

She stood outside the door, exposed to the bitter wind, until her whole body felt numb and stiff.

After about 20 minutes, Raymond finally appeared.

He looked like he'd just gotten out of the shower. His striking silver hair was still damp, and he carried that careless, cool air about him.

When Clara saw him, her eyes lit up.

So he was showering!

That means he really didn't know I was here!

This awful servant was just bullying me!

Suddenly bursting into tears, she looked up at Raymond with a pitiful, wronged expression. "Raymond, you have to stand up for me! The servants here have been so mean!

"They left me outside in the cold... I'm freezing... I'm not even treated like a member of the Tucker family!

"Raymond, please let me take a hot shower inside. I'm so cold, I can't feel my hands or feet..."

She cried softly, looking as fragile as a flower caught in the rain—the sort of sight that could melt even the coldest heart.

She tried to step inside.

But Raymond, standing in the doorway, stretched out his leg and kicked her away. "Stay out. Don't dirty my floor."

Clara stumbled backward and fell hard on the wet ground. Soaked and humiliated, she sprawled there for a moment—stunned.

Raymond... pushed me?

Like I was trash?

Just then, Raymond tapped his phone. A recording began to play—two girls talking.

"Clara... Raymond has a cold. I want to make him some oatmeal, but I don't know what kind he likes. I can only make plain oatmeal... Will he hate it?"

The voice was soft, hesitant—sounding insecure from the inside out.

"Margaret, don't worry, he'll like it. You have nothing to be afraid of."

"Clara... what did you just put in?"

"It's herbs for colds. They'll help him get better faster."

"Clara, you're so kind. I wouldn't know what to do without you. Raymond seems so scary... I'm a little afraid of him..."

"Margaret, it's okay. This time, when you bring him the oatmeal, he'll see how sincere you are. He'll accept you as his sister..."

"Thank you... You're the only one here who's nice to me. The only one who doesn't look down on me..."

The recording stopped.

Clara's face was now sheet-white. Pure fear washed over her, trembling through her entire body.