Gemma’s bottom lip began to tremble violently as she looked toward the sofa where her favorite toy had landed.
Lorelai quietly shifted her position on the floor, moving slightly closer to her younger sister to protect her.
Inside the dark surveillance room, Chadworth felt his throat tighten as he held his breath.
His daughters were not behaving like children being corrected by a future stepmother who loved them; they were behaving like helpless captives who lived in constant terror of her presence.
Before Sabina could say another word, Rosamund entered the living room through the side hallway.
She had clearly overheard Sabina’s harsh tone from the kitchen and had moved quickly to check on the children.
She stepped into the room carefully, offering no aggressive gestures or loud words, but deliberately positioning herself between Sabina and the two little girls.
“Miss Sabina,” Rosamund said in a soft, gentle voice, “the children were simply reading quietly while waiting for their morning tutor.”
Sabina turned toward the housekeeper so fast that the sudden movement looked almost physical.
“Did I ask for your input or your opinion, Rosamund?” she demanded viciously.
Rosamund kept her posture perfectly still and lowered her eyes respectfully.
“No, ma’am, you did not,” she replied softly.
“Then remember your place in this house and keep your mouth shut,” Sabina spat back.
The living room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.
On the monitor, Lorelai reached out and tightly grabbed her younger sister’s hand.
Chadworth found himself staring at that tiny, heartbreaking detail far longer than anything else on the screen.
He was not looking at Sabina’s furious expression or Rosamund’s protective stance; he was looking at the way his two young daughters immediately sought comfort in each other.
They were acting as though this cruel dynamic had played out many times before, and they already knew how to brace themselves for the storm.
A sudden wave of deep nausea washed over Chadworth as he sat in the dark room.
For all those months, Sabina had been whispering poison into his ear, claiming that Rosamund was dangerous and untrustworthy, yet he had never stopped to ask himself why his daughters had grown so quiet and distant around him lately.
He had failed to notice the subtle fear in their eyes because he had been completely blind to the snake living right under his own roof.
