Chapter 2
Charles's figure disappeared behind the study door on the second floor.
The gentle expression on Isabelle's lips was gone. She didn't take Lucas for his nap. Instead, she turned back and slumped into the main leather sofa in the living room.
"Throw out all these old things that reek of illness." She pointed at the boxes of junk the servants had hauled out from the storage room. There was clear disgust in her voice.
The servants didn't dare make a sound.
I stood frozen at the edge of the living room, watching as every sign of my presence was tossed into trash bags.
Isabelle picked up a cup of hot chocolate.
She handed it across the wide coffee table to me.
Steam curled up from the rim.
She didn't say a word, just stared at me with those eyes perfectly lined with eyeliner.
Her gaze was insistent, almost demanding.
I dropped my gaze.
My eyes landed on her wrist, which she held out.
She was wearing a flawless emerald bracelet.
That was the wedding gift my mother left me.
My fingers tensed involuntarily.
Under her insistent gaze, I took the scalding cup.
As I steadied it, Isabelle withdrew her hand and smoothed her skirt.
Her fingers, hidden from view, covertly reached for Lucas, who was curled up by her leg. She pinched the inside of his slender arm.
Lucas flinched. He let out a sharp, piercing cry.
The cup shook, and scalding hot chocolate splashed onto the back of my hand.
A patch of angry red instantly bloomed on my skin.
"What are you doing?" I ignored the sting on my hand and barked at her.
Isabelle instinctively scooped Lucas into her arms. "Olivia, calm down. You're scaring Lucas." Her voice was loud, sounding both startled and aggrieved.
But when she leaned in close to Lucas's ear, her voice was barely a whisper. "Go on, push that bad woman away, or tonight you'll be locked in the dark room."
Lucas's frail shoulders shook uncontrollably. His eyes were red and swollen, wide with fear as he looked straight at me.
He broke free from Isabelle's arms and stumbled toward me. He thrust out his hands and shoved hard against my legs.
I didn't see it coming.
I stumbled, my lower back banging hard against the edge of the marble coffee table.
A dull thud rang out, and pain instantly spread through my body.
The cup slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor.
Fragments of broken ceramic flew everywhere.
Isabelle looked down at me from above, her gaze full of superiority. A faint smirk played at the corner of her lips. Her eyes were filled with mockery.
Lucas shrank back behind Isabelle. His small hands gripped tightly onto the hem of her white skirt.
"Go away, you bad person!" His little voice hit me like a slap, echoing in my ears.
My head buzzed from the sound.
Cold sweat prickled down my back.
I heard footsteps coming from the stairs above.
Charles descended the stairs.
He paused at the bottom step.
His gaze swept over the fragments of broken ceramic scattered across the floor.
Finally, his eyes landed on me.
There wasn't a hint of emotion in his gaze.
I collapsed onto the floor.
My breath was stuck in my chest.
I looked up at his face.
I opened my mouth, hoping to find some sense of justice in his eyes. "Charles, she's the one who pinched Lucas. I—"
Charles's brow furrowed.
"You just got back, and now you start acting crazy, scaring the kid to tears. Haven't you made enough of a scene?" he snapped, cutting me off.
He didn't ask a single thing more. "Go back to your room."
A metallic taste welled up in my throat.
I watched as Isabelle scooped up the sobbing Lucas and turned to leave.
The shards of broken ceramic on the floor reflected a harsh, blinding white light.
My nails dug into my palms, leaving bloody marks.
"Why?" I croaked, my voice hoarse. "Why do you only believe her? Why won't you even ask me?"
Charles looked down at me. His cold stare made my skin crawl.
"Your illness is getting worse. Now you're getting paranoid," Charles said, his voice flat and emotionless.
His words left me speechless.
A chill crept up my spine.
A chill swept through my body.
Charles straightened his shirt cuffs and turned toward the study.
His words hung in the air, echoing through the hall. "Who would believe a lunatic?"