Leona Grant returned home early the next morning.
When he arrived home, Annabelle Linton was already awake.
She was sitting quietly on the sofa in a long white dress, her face expressionless, her gaze lowered, lost in thought.
Beside her, one maid was applying medicine to her hand while another combed her hair.
The maid looked frightened, her hands trembling as she applied medicine and wrapped the gauze. The wound was gruesome, a mangled mess of flesh and blood.
Annabelle Linton remained completely expressionless, not even furrowing her brow.
"Go pack my things," Annabelle Linton suddenly said.
"Well..."
The maid hesitated, then looked up and saw the tall figure of Leona Grant by the door. She looked at him respectfully, seeking his instruction.
Leona Grant paused for a few seconds before saying in a deep voice, "Go help her pack her things."
A flicker of emotion finally appeared in Annabelle Linton's eyes as she looked up at him.
