"Oh, is that so? Mind telling me more about them?" Atticus asked. His tone was casual, but Drusilla felt a chill travel down her spine.
Even though it was still sunny out, Drusilla thought that she had witnessed death in the gold of Atticus's eyes. Everything else in the world seemed as though it was clouded in pitch black, and there was no light of salvation offered to her.
"Might they be the same rumors that spread just a short while ago?" he continued to ask pleasantly, tilting his head to the side, like a curious bird peering at an interesting worm.
Drusilla gulped, her legs trembling with fear. Somehow this was scarier than facing down her brother's twin arrows!
This time, even Daphne couldn't find it in herself to stand up for this useless, backstabbing sister of hers any longer. She stepped forward, hooking her arm around Atticus's. The man's gaze softened as he looked at his wife― clearly displaying the undeniable affection he had for her.
