“Why is a bowl of the consommé missing? That was for Mrs. Mercer and Miss Mara.”
“I gave a bowl to Miss Mira. It’s the instant kind, easy to prepare. Just grab another one from the cabinet and heat it up,” Rachel, having been with the Mercer family for years, was not afraid of the other staff.
“The expensive items are all accounted for. I can’t just take one without Mrs. Mercer’s permission.”
“If you don’t dare to take one, then shut up. What are you yelling about? I’m eating my own family’s food, do I need your permission?”
The cook, rebuked by Mira, fell silent. She had clearly been bought by Mara. In the past, no servant would have dared to speak to her like that.
“Rachel, if anyone gives you trouble, call me.”
“I will.” A wave of warmth washed over Rachel. This was the child she had raised, and the bond was truly deep.
Mira finished speaking and left. Her backpack was bulging today, and if that scheming Mara saw it, there would surely be more trouble.
After leaving the Mercer estate, Mira walked to a nearby bus stop. She didn't want to spend extra money on a taxi. Her funds were limited, and she had to plan everything carefully. From this moment on, she was no longer the pampered daughter of a wealthy family, but an orphan, an ordinary entrepreneur who had to rely on herself.
The bus arrived quickly. She squeezed on with a crowd of commuters. There were no seats available during the morning rush, so she stood, holding onto a vertical pole.
“Mira, is that you?”
“Cara Dawson.” It was one of Mira’s classmates.
“What are you doing on the bus? Your family has so many luxury cars. Don’t tell me this has something to do with that sister of yours again?”
“It’s not that bad. I just got tired of riding in cars. Riding the bus is kind of interesting, isn’t it?”

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