"Miss Moore."
There was knocking at the door.
"Are you awake? Would you like some breakfast?"
"Yes."
Norris Moore answered hoarsely, then went into the bathroom to wash her face and came back out, her face pale.
Seeing her pale and haggard, the maid became increasingly cautious in her tone: "Miss Moore, are you alright? Your complexion looks terrible; should I have the driver take you to the hospital later?"
Norris shook her head and silently went downstairs.
After breakfast, she sat on the sofa with her cellphone, staring off into space.
The servants in the room exchanged glances, not daring to disturb her.
At fifteen minutes past ten, Norris's phone rang.
She bowed her head to look at the unfamiliar number on the screen and picked up the call.
"Norris? It's Amelia. I'll be coming back tomorrow."
"Amelia." Norris called her name in a hoarse voice, feeling wronged. "I'm sorry..."
