Chapter 8
Julian glared at her, his voice icy. “What’s wrong-run out of excuses? I thought you’d turned over a new leaf, but you came back only to bully Annie even worse. From now on, go sleep in the servant quarters!”
Head bowed, lashes lowered, Elena said nothing; no one could see what flickered in her eyes.
Hearing the commotion, Adaline hurried over, anxious to know what had happened.
Seeing Elena still in her travel clothes, curled on the floor, Adaline’s heart ached and she moved to help her-yet Annabelle burst into tears first.
“Mom, please don’t blame Elena,” Annabelle sobbed, voice quivering with innocence. “I’m only borrowing her room for a while; she was angry and tried
to hit me. I just didn’t have time to tidy up because Elena came home so suddenly.” she said, tears glistening on her cheeks.
Annabelle bit her lip, the very picture of fragile purity, and Adaline’s heart melted at once.
“Mom, Julian already scolded Ètena,” Annabelle added softly. “Please don’t make things harder for her.”
Adaline’s brows drew together as she squeezed Annabelle’s hand; when her gaze slid to Elena, the warmth drained away, replaced entirely by disappointment.
Elena watched every shift in her mother’s eyes until her own heart turned to ashes.
Adaline finally looked away, patting Annabelle’s back in gentle rhythm. “Hush now, no more tears. Mom knows you’ve been wronged.”
Clinging to her waist, Annabelle burrowed into the embrace. “I’m not wronged, Mom. As long as I’m with you, any grievance is worth it. I never want to drift about again.”
Those few words tightened Adaline’s embrace even further.
Hidden from the others, Annabelle shot Elena a venomous look, lips curling in taunting triumph.
Elena was banished to the servant quarters.
The tiny room held only a makeshift shower. She undressed and stood before the mirror, studying her reflection.
Pale skin was criss-crossed with scars-new over old, red, black, purple, blue. The bruises they had seen earlier were merely the tip of a vast iceberg.
Before the glass, memories flooded her mind: Annabelle’s endless traps; the night her own parents handed her over to take the blame; Ava Green’s broken, blood-soaked head; a year of unrelenting torment; night after night sleeping in a doghouse, living on kitchen swill.
