"Young Madam, I have sothing very important to explain to you."
"Hm?" Ann Vaughn half-opened her misty eyes, still caught in sleep, wanting only to fall back into slumber, but Mrs. Lynch’s serious and tense tone caught her attention.
It seed like she was about to tell her sothing significant, so she slowly sat up, her voice raspy, "Go ahead."
After hesitating repeatedly, Mrs. Lynch finally spoke, "You likely don’t rember... During the ti you first joined the Hawthorne Family, although the Madam didn’t like you as her daughter-in-law, often criticizing and blaming you, she would remind every day to bring you a glass of milk."
Milk?
The mories were distant, and Ann Vaughn had caught a chill, leaving her feeling a bit out of sorts; she couldn’t imdiately recall that detail.
"You probably didn’t know that the milk had substances added to it, so every ti you drank it all..." Mrs. Lynch smiled wryly, "Initially, I didn’t know what those substances were either; I just followed the Madam’s instructions to put dicine in the milk."
"It wasn’t until a few days ago that I accidentally overheard the Madam ntion your miscarriage over the phone, linking it to the milk you drank back then. That shocked ..."
"What did you say?!" At this point, Ann Vaughn’s mind exploded with a buzzing sound, her watery eyes filled with astonishnt, "I... miscarried?!"
How could she have miscarried?!
Ann Vaughn instinctively placed her small hand on her abdon, looking at Mrs. Lynch’s sincerely remorseful expression, feeling sothing inside her suddenly collapse and shatter.
Sharp edges rolled painfully within her.
She suddenly recalled Laura Quinn visiting her ward the day before yesterday, prepared to say sothing but getting interrupted by Cyrus Hawthorne.
At that ti, she was puzzled by what Laura Quinn wanted to say she "moved."
She had also suspected, detected, but ultimately chose to trust Cyrus Hawthorne, believing he wouldn’t deceive her.
"I’m sorry, Young Madam, I’m truly sorry." Mrs. Lynch bowed deeply to Ann Vaughn, face full of guilt, "I’m a servant of the Hawthorne Family. I have to follow the Madam’s orders, but I never thought it would harm you like this. I beg for your forgiveness."
Since learning what those dicine packages could do, Mrs. Lynch had been in a state of fear but dared not ntion it to Ann Vaughn, as her grandson needed costly dical treatnt. She couldn’t risk it.
However, in the end, conscience triumphed over fear.
Ann Vaughn’s eyes were dazed; her small hand on her abdon tightened, not noticing how her fingertip dug into the soft skin.
The mories from the early years, along with Mrs. Lynch’s confession, slowly surfaced.
Alongside those unpleasant mories she had avoided recalling, gradually becoming clear.
Back then, if she had legitimately married into the Hawthorne Family, things would have been fine. But she happened to be a surrogate bride, replacing all that rightfully belonged to Cynthia Vaughn in the eyes of those who didn’t know.
Soone like her was naturally incompatible with the prestigious Hawthorne Family; the mother-in-law disliked her, found ways to make things difficult, the husband didn’t love her, looked at her coldly, even the servants were disdainful and disrespectful.
Only Mrs. Lynch would speak kindly on her behalf when she faced troubles, genuinely care for her health and feelings.
Ann Vaughn did notice the milk tasted strange but didn’t want to waste the kindness of the one person treating her well, so she drank it all despite the taste.
But now Mrs. Lynch told her the milk, which she considered as kindness and encouragent, was responsible for her miscarriage.
The concern she believed existed, turned out to be a poison quietly flowing in her blood, unnoticed!
Ha!
What a joke.
Bitterness accumulated in her eyes, thickening the mist in Ann Vaughn’s gaze; she lowered her head quietly, neither crying nor making a fuss, like a soul lost.
Mrs. Lynch didn’t hear her response and didn’t straighten up, burdened by guilt and regret threatening to overwhelm her.
Her selfishness not only deprived a life about to be born but nearly caused the Young Madam to lose her own life.
But it was due to the Young Madam that her grandson’s life was saved.
What a sin!
With a bang, Mrs. Lynch knelt on the floor, "Young Madam, I’m to bla. You saved my dearest grandson, but I caused you to lose a child, I..."
"Is that so." Ann Vaughn squeezed her eyes shut, a drop of crystal slid from the corner of her eyes down to her cheek, and when she reopened her eyes, all the usual brightness had disappeared, leaving only dead ashes.
"I was always grateful for your care, but I never imagined," Ann Vaughn lifted her dim eyes, calmly yet lifelessly looking at Mrs. Lynch’s regretful face, "you would stab in the back."
Whether intentional or not, what’s done cannot be justified.
Without looking further at Mrs. Lynch’s defeated appearance, Ann Vaughn turned her gaze to the window, her voice icy as she issued an eviction order, "Leave, and don’t co back to see ."
"... Rest well." Mrs. Lynch said chokingly, standing up and leaving.
The room returned to its original silence, but Ann Vaughn no longer felt like sleeping. Her gaze at the window beca sowhat blurred, as though a layer of haze had descended, preventing even the warm and bright sunlight from penetrating.
In a re mont, her heart felt as though it had been cut, drenched in blood, pain driving her close to breathlessness.
Slowly, she lowered her head, looking at her abdon, her pale lips pressing tightly together.
Here once harbored a child, a child she had longed for.
Before she even noticed, it had already beco a bygone mont.
The sound of repressed sorrow quietly echoed through the hospital room, like a wounded little beast, trying to swallow the pain inside and shut itself completely off from the outside world.
The duration is unknown.
Sherry brought a freshly prepared nutritious al to the hospital room, only to find it empty.
The bed still had faint warmth, and the pillow was soaked with a large patch of watermarks, she didn’t know what had happened.
"Couldn’t be..." With this possibility in mind, Sherry felt sothing was wrong and imdiately turned to leave the hospital room.
...
anwhile, the afternoon tea party of society ladies continued in full swing.
"Lana, it’s been so long, haven’t you thought about finding another educated, well-matched wife for Cian?" It was a politician’s wife who spoke, childless, yet having two exceptional daughters.
Laura Quinn understood her implication at once, laughed and said, "It’s his personal matter, I never ddle in it."
Would she even have the right to ddle.
Upon hearing this, the politician’s wife remarked, "As Cian’s mother, aren’t major life decisions like marriage usually determined by parental orders? Moreover, it’s been years since his divorce, he should have soone knowing cold from warm beside him."
Reviews
All reviews (0)