When Alex Miller came back from the company, he saw the servants hurrying up the stairs from the hall. His expression changed slightly, and he quickly entered the house and went upstairs.
The servants were all standing at a distance, whispering to each other. At Norris's door, Amelia Miller's face was pale as she faced the room, her voice trembling, "Norris, give me what's in your hands. I won't hurt you. Be good, okay?"
Alex kept an emotionless face as he walked towards Norris Moore's bedroom door. Her room was dark, only lit by the light at the door. Norris stood not far away, shaking her head at Amelia. It seemed as if she was holding something in her hand, something that had cut her palm. Blood seeped from her sleeve, soaking her blue-and-white lace-trimmed silk nightgown.
One drop of blood after another, it was as if they were dripping onto the tip of his heart.
The woman he treasured so much was hurting herself right before his eyes.
