She poured a cup of warm boiled water for Jasmine Yale, placing the cup in her palm.
"Miss Yale, don't be upset. Today is Saturday, take some time to rest." The maid couldn't come up with other comforting words for Jasmine.
After all, Mr. Cheney had given the command; Jasmine definitely couldn't leave the villa.
Jasmine was holding the glass cup, silent, her gaze somewhat vacant.
Her eyes were blank, her look dispirited.
The maid accompanied her for a long time.
After a while, Jasmine weakly spoke, her voice choked up, "I'm alright."
The maid didn't believe her - she had cried so much.
Jasmine picked up her cup and stood up, her face calm: "I'm going to the study."
"Miss Yale, are you going to the study to read?" The maid asked worriedly, fearing Jasmine might become despondent.
Jasmine nodded: "I am going to read. I don't feel like having lunch, so don't bring it to me, and there's no need to look for me in the study."
"Miss Yale... "
