Samuel Johnson furrowed his brows as he looked at the marks on Amanda Smith's body…
A bizarre thought emerged in his mind.
Could it be that on that night, he knew it was Amanda Smith by his side? Otherwise, why would he…
His heart tightened slightly, and he hurriedly cast aside these absurd thoughts.
He found an answer for himself, then leisurely slipped on his final coat. Looking at Amanda Smith who lay motionless on the bed, he felt like he had finally got his revenge and left the room with a clear and refreshed spirit, humming to himself.
He opened the door, seemed to remember something, turned his head and said, "Tasha is still in the hospital, cook a chicken soup for me and deliver it to her!"
After he said this, he left through the door.
"Click."
The room door closed tightly.
Amanda who had been silent all along slowly lifted her head.
Her face was covered in cold sweat, and her lips were bitten bloody by herself, the stark color making her face even paler.
She didn't get up for a long time, and only when she had gathered a bit of strength did she support herself with her arms and sit up.
So, whose face was she thinking of?
Her heart squeezed slowly, and Amanda felt even more nauseous. She vomited everything in her stomach.
******************************************
After bathing herself and airing out the room by opening the windows to ensure there were no scents left on her, Amanda grabbed her bag and went downstairs.
As she passed by the corner, she suddenly heard a voice.
"Mrs. Johnson, do you think Mr. Johnson really wants Miss Smith to marry the young master?"
Amanda recognized the voice; it belonged to Jane, the old maid brought from Mrs. Johnson's family.
For some reason, Amanda stopped in her tracks, leaning against the corner wall.
She was a bit nervous.
Over the years, Mrs. Johnson, though she hadn't treated her as well as her own son, had never been harsh with her regarding food, clothing, housing, and transportation. Having lost her mother at a young age and with only vague memories of her biological parents, she always felt a certain reverence for Mrs. Johnson.
After hearing Jane's question, Mrs. Johnson stopped knitting, looked up at her, and then smiled.
"How could that be possible? Although Amanda was brought up by me, how could her status possibly be suited for Samuel?" She waved her hand casually, "Now that they have had relations as husband and wife, it would be fine to keep her as a mistress, but for her kind of status to take the position of Mrs. Johnson, wouldn't that be utterly disgraceful?"
"But I think Mr. Johnson quite likes Miss Smith…"
"What use is his liking? Samuel doesn't like her. Wouldn't I know what kind of taste my own child I raised has?" Mrs. Johnson said with delight, "My daughter-in-law will certainly be one in a million, someone who lacks neither family background nor looks, how could Amanda ever match up to him?"