The assistant knew perfectly well who Amelia was, but he couldn’t figure out why his boss, married as he was, still went out of his way to look after Ms. Scott. So, he kept his thoughts to himself and simply reported everything he’d overheard, word for word.
At that moment, Daniel was reviewing some documents. As soon as he heard the report, his pen stilled in his hand.
He picked up his phone and called Violet.
When Violet saw Daniel’s name flash on her screen, a warmth bloomed in her chest. She thought maybe the housekeeper’s words had gotten through, and Daniel was calling to comfort her. But what she heard instead was his careless, almost bored voice.
“What did you do to provoke her this time?”
“Honestly, even I have to watch what I say around her. Just try not to get on her nerves.”
Violet’s anger flared. She slammed her fist down on the armrest of her wheelchair, only to bang her knuckles and let out a yelp of pain.
Daniel hung up. He spun the phone in his palm, a faint, low laugh escaping his throat as some thought crossed his mind. Then he dialed another number.
Lately, Amelia had been feeling drowsy all the time. She’d just dozed off, face pressed into her pillow, when her phone started ringing. Half-asleep, she answered.
Daniel’s voice came through: “Did you get into a fight with Violet?”
Amelia snapped awake. So the Porcelain Doll had gone running to tattle—now the cavalry had arrived.
She sat up and took a deep breath. “Yeah, we argued. If you’re so worried about her, you might want to stock up on glue. If your precious Porcelain Doll cracks again, you can patch her up before she goes around blaming everyone else.”
“Amelia—”
“Don’t. If you want to argue, do it face-to-face. I’m not scared of a showdown. I let it go when your Porcelain Doll tried to steal my research paper this time, but if it happens again, don’t expect me to be polite.”
With that, she hung up, the phone clicking off sharply.
Daniel hadn’t managed more than ten words the whole time, but his face was even darker than the phone in his hand.
“Amelia, do you have the number for the owner of Sapphire Blues, the bar near campus?”
Amelia sat up. “What’s going on?”
Emily was in a long-distance relationship, visiting her boyfriend in another city tonight.
“Ella called me twenty minutes ago—someone trapped her in a private room at the bar. The line went dead, and now I can’t reach her at all.”
Amelia slipped into her slippers and got to her feet. “Did you call the police?”
“I did, but I’m not there. I have no idea what’s happening to her right now!”
“Don’t panic. I’ll go check it out and call you as soon as I know anything.”
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