Chapter 3
I looked down at Martha and said, "Just happened to be passing by? Saw something in the pond and thought you'd fish it out and give it back to me?"
She froze.
I finished her sentence for her. "Or are you about to say you were just being nice, all pure-hearted, and I'm the one who's falsely accusing you?"
Her tears flowed even harder.
Her shoulders were shaking with sobs, and she was practically gasping for air.
She looked as pitiful as anyone could possibly be. Anyone watching would probably feel sorry for her.
But to me, it was just pathetic.
In my previous life, I actually fell for that look.
She was always like this.
She was always the one stabbing me in the back, always plotting against me, but somehow, everyone ended up thinking I was the villain, picking on her.
"Adelynn," someone barked at me from behind.
I didn't turn around.
I knew exactly who it was.
Footsteps drew closer, carrying a chill that cut through the air like a steely wind.
Jason strode up to me.
He stepped in front of Martha, towering over me, his gaze cold as forged ice.
"What are you doing?" he demanded.
I looked at his face.
He was handsome, born with that cold, untouchable vibe, and there was always a distance in his eyes.
I loved that face for ten years.
I used to think that if I was good enough, gentle enough, caring enough, he'd notice me eventually.
But he never did.
He only ever had eyes for Martha, the one who could turn on the waterworks, act helpless, and tremble like a frightened bunny every time he was around.
"I asked you what you're doing," he repeated, his tone icy.
Before I could even open my mouth, Martha was already in his arms.
She was shaking from head to toe, sobbing so hard she could barely catch her breath, grabbing his collar as she choked out, "M-Mr. Robertson, it's not Miss Arnold's fault. It's all my fault. I upset her."
The more Martha tried to explain, the worse Jason's expression got.
He wrapped his arms around her, staring down at her red, tear-filled eyes, his brows drawn so tight he looked ready to snap.
"Don't cry," Jason said, his voice gentler. "Just tell me, what happened?"
Martha shook her head frantically, refusing to say a word. "N-nothing... really. It's nothing..."
The more she acted like that, the more Jason thought I was bullying her.
He finally lifted his gaze and looked right at me.
That look in his eyes, just like in my previous life, was cold, pure disgust—like I was nothing but filth.
"Adelynn," Jason said, "what crazy stunt are you pulling again?"
He actually said "again", like I was always acting crazy, always bullying Martha.
I laughed.
"Crazy? You think I'm the crazy one?" I shot back.
I looked at his face and suddenly thought that I must've been blind in my previous life.
How did I ever fall for a guy like him?
"Jason, aren't you even going to ask what she's doing here?" I said.
Jason frowned, and Martha stiffened.
Her sobs faltered for a second, then she started crying even harder, practically shrinking into Jason's arms.
"I-I was just helping Miss Arnold look for something," she stammered, her voice trembling. "She said her pendant was missing, so I... I just wanted to help her find it."
I almost burst out laughing.
What a shameless act—playing the victim and blaming me.
"Oh?" I looked at Jason. "Did you catch that, Jason?"
Jason gave me a cold stare. "You know perfectly well whether she's telling the truth."
I said, "Trust me, I know."
I took a step forward.
Martha curled up in Jason's arms, shaking.
She looked so helpless that anyone watching would want to protect her.
But I ignored her completely.
My gaze was fixed on Jason.
"Answer me this, Jason," I said. "If I lost my pendant, why would I have a maid look for it instead of finding it myself?"
Jason frowned.
"Such devotion, huh?" I continued. "She was on her knees by the pond, plunging her hands into freezing water just to help me find the pendant. Don't you think she's laying it on a bit thick?"
Martha's sobs came to an abrupt halt.
She lifted her head from Jason's arms, her tear-filled eyes met mine.
"Miss Arnold, I... I just wanted to... to help you," she mumbled.
"Help me?" I looked down at Martha. "Are you really helping me, or just helping yourself?"
Martha's expression shifted.
Her face turned ghostly pale in an instant.
But that look only lasted a moment.
The next second, she slipped right back into her pitiful routine, tears pouring down her cheeks.
"Miss Arnold, how could you say that? I've always treated you like a real sister," she said.
Hearing her say that, I nearly laughed out loud.
She used to say that all the time in my previous life.