Chapter 40
Amelia was lost in herself, she forgot that she wasn’t alone in the restroom.
“You’re trying to reject yourself before anyone else can p>
Lara’s gentle voice startled her.
“It feels safer. But it’s still cowardice p>
Amelia flinched.
Cowardice. The truth stung worse than the gossip. Because it felt accurate. Indeed, she was a coward.
All her life, she’d always stepped back, always stayed quiet, let others take what they wanted.
And now she was about to give Liam away, too.
Without him even asking.
Tears spilled silently down her cheeks.
“I don’t know how to be strong,” she admitted.
Not dramatically.
“I don’t know how people like Summer do it. Or you. I… I don’t know how to fight for anything p>
Her voice dissolved into the air.
“I think… if someone pushes me a little harder… I’ll just disappear p>
And in that moment, she truly looked like she might.
Like a person fading at the edges.
“Better than being unwanted p>
A cold and heavy silence, hung in the air.
For the first time, Lara moved.
She crouched down so they were at eye level, not towering or judgmental.
Just there.
But she still didn’t comfort her. No hug. No soft lies.
Only steady eyes.
“You’re not thinking clearly,” Lara said quietly.
Amelia gave a weak, watery laugh. “I never do p>
“That’s not what I mean p>
Lara’s gaze sharpened.
“You’re not choosing. You’re running p>
The word hit harder than Amelia expected.
Running. Indeed, she ran again. Like earlier. Like always.
Amelia shrank back, staring at the floor tiles as if they could swallow her. She didn’t want to meet her gaze.
Then, a hand appeared in her vision.
She looked up.
Lara’s light brown eyes weren’t stern now. Just… warm and patient.
Amelia hesitated. Then she took it.
Her fingers were cold but Lara’s were warm and impossibly soft. For a second, Amelia didn’t want to let go.
Lara stilled.
Something flickered across her face, and a strange feeling engulfed her when she held Amelia’s hand.
A memory surfaced from the fog, unbidden.
A bundled infant in her arms, the milk-sweet scent clung to her like vine. Her heart was so full of doting.
’Mother, you have been holding my daughter for a long time now. You must be tired p>
She remembered that voice. It was her firstborn – Aldrich. And the baby was her first grandchild.
The past brushed against her like a ghost.
Amelia was confused when she noticed Lara was in a daze. The look she gave her was like the way her grandfather’s kind eyes looked at her, full of doting.
Amelia’s tears stopped falling. She awkwardly cleared her throat.
“Miss Larissa… are you alright p>
Lara blinked, the restroom snapping back into place.
“Yes. I—sorry. Just got distracted p>
She gently released Amelia’s hand.
“You should clean up. People will wonder where you went p>
Amelia turned on the tap. Cold water splashed against porcelain. Against her face.
She gave a small, crooked smile.
The kind people use when they’re already bracing for disappointment.
“Don’t worry, no one will miss me p>
Lara watched her quietly.
And for a moment, Amelia reminded her of another girl she’d once helped in the past.
She, too, lacked self-confidence and self-worth, a broken vase just like Amelia.
Amelia had just retouched her makeup when the restroom door slammed open hard enough to rattle the hinges.
“So,” Layla’s voice rang out, syrupy and sharp at the same time, ” this is where you’ve been hiding p>
She didn’t wait for an answer.
Her heels clicked against the tile like a countdown.
“No wonder I haven’t seen a pathetic little fly buzzing around my brother today p>
She stepped in with an exaggerated sway of her hips, perfume flooding the air—sweet and suffocating.
Predatory.
Like she’d come looking for something small to crush.
Behind her, Summer slipped in more quietly.
Graceful. Polished. Perfect posture.
A smile curved her lips but it never reached her eyes.
The door swung shut behind them with a soft, final click.
Amelia’s fingers tightened around the sink.
She felt like a cornered animal.
Before she could force out a word—
“Layla. Watch your mouth p>
Lara’s voice cut through the room like a blade.
Flat. Controlled. Dangerously calm.
Layla actually flinched just for a second. Then her chin lifted.
“I’m starting to think you’re following me on purpose,” Lara added, gaze steady.
Layla scoffed loudly, hands flying to her hips.
“Excuse me? Who do you think you are that I’d waste time following you p>
“Exactly,” Summer chimed in lightly. “Isn’t she the governess of the Ares’ daughter? But to me, why does it sound like a nanny p>
Her tone was honey-sweet, but her words weren’t.
“Some people get so delusional. Acting important when they’re really just… lowlife, ah, disposable p>
Her eyes slid to Amelia. It was slow and deliberate.
Like she was looking at gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.
“Trash sticks around longer than she does,” Summer added with a soft laugh.
Amelia felt heat crawl up her neck.
Her hands twisted together, knuckles white.
Don’t cry. Don’t react. Don’t give them anything.
Lara exhaled through her nose.
Annoyance flickered across her face.
These women really had nothing better to do than hunt someone smaller.
She stepped forward, placing herself between them and Amelia without making it obvious.
A quiet wall.
“Come, Amelia,” she said gently. “We’re leaving p>
She took Amelia’s hand and pulled her past them.
Layla shifted like she might block the way, but something in Lara’s eyes stopped her.
They walked out.
The door shut behind them.
For a heartbeat, there was only silence.
Then Layla’s expression twisted.
“Damn it,” she hissed. “That nanny is so damn meddlesome. I swear I want to humiliate her p>
Her nails dug into her palms.
Summer tilted her head, thoughtful.
Then she smiled. It was slow and menacing.
“Oh, that’s easy p>
She leaned close, whispering into Layla’s ear.
Something quiet.
Something ugly.
Layla’s eyes lit up.
Both of them giggled.
Not loud.
Not joyful.
The kind of laughter that meant someone else was about to suffer.