Annabelle Linton bit her lip hard and roughly wiped her tears away.
'No. I can't let my baby see me this weak.'
A woman may be weak, but a mother is strong. She had her child with her; there was no reason to feel aggrieved.
CLANG—
The iron door swung open, and the woman delivering the meal walked in, a look of disgust on her face.
"Time to eat, time to eat! Annabelle Linton, why don't you just drop dead? Having to bring you food every day is such a curse!" The maid walked in, pinching her nose, her voice shrill. She slammed the food onto the table with a terrible attitude.
Seeing the maid about to leave, Annabelle Linton quickly grabbed her. "Please, what's happening outside? How did Vivian Yates's child die? Have they found the killer?"
