Sophia's face turned an ashen shade of fury, her heart teetering on the edge of wishing Clara would just vanish from the face of the earth.
Otherwise, her son would surely be ruined by this fickle-hearted woman!
...
In the servants' quarters.
Clara had just neatly folded the laundry she had brought from the washroom. Everything was in order when she had returned, barely standing firm when the sound of the door being kicked open reverberated behind her.
She spun around to meet Emmett's eyes, ablaze with untamed rage.
In that moment, she could almost see the murderous intent!
"What do you want?"
"Are you still in touch with Elio Milburn? Did he slip you another note?"
Seeing Clara remain silent, Emmett seized the collar of her dress, as if he wanted to lift her off her feet, "Speak up! Who's been passing messages between you?"
Clara felt like she was suffocating, his grip unrelenting.
She closed her eyes, wishing she could just die and be free of all this turmoil, no longer needing to puzzle over what path to take next.
But suddenly, Emmett let go.
Clara, now gasping for air, coughed violently and stumbled into a corner of the room.
"Do you love him that much?"
Emmett's voice floated to her, a stark contrast to the fury he had brought with him just now.
He seemed more despondent.
"I'm sorry."

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