"Let her in."
Today, Lydia Shire was wearing a light pink coat, its collar framed her rosy cheeks, making her look delicate and charming.
Quite different from Amelia Cobb's professionalism.
"What would you like to drink, Miss Shire?" Amelia's tone was gentle.
"Tea, thank you."
Amelia understood and called Betty Harrison: "Serve Miss Shire a cup of tea."
Betty hesitated, "Green tea?"
Amelia glanced at Lydia and nodded slowly, "That works; it suits Miss Shire's image."
Lydia could hear the mockery in Amelia's words, but she didn't get angry. Instead, she laughed, "Remember to make it strong; I don't drink regular green tea."
Her implication was clear: she was no ordinary person.
Amelia's slender fingertips rested on her knee.
With a downward glance, Lydia noticed the bare nails on Amelia's hand.
Previously, whenever they met, Amelia's nails were always well-manicured and painted. But now, they were plain and unadorned.
The simple change did not go unnoticed by Lydia.
