Oscar, taken aback by her cold welcome, remained silent. He scanned the cramped space, his face unreadable. The threadbare couch, the kitchenette with its chipped Formica countertops, the lone window framing a view of brick walls rather than sprawling estates—it was all so starkly different from the opulent halls of the Archers.
"Did you lose your way to a charity event?" Marley sneered, her patience fraying at the edges.
Finally, Oscar composed himself enough to speak, though his voice was tinged with something unfamiliar. "I didn't realize...this was how you were living," he murmured, almost to himself, as if the revelation of her circumstances warranted some kind of pity.
Marley bristled, stepping further into the room, unwilling to allow his presence to diminish her. "Well now you know," she shot back, her gaze unwavering. "And now that you've satisfied your curiosity, you can leave."
