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"Young Madam of the Wilsons, won't you thank the young Madam of the Collens for saving you?" one of the guests prompted, her voice carrying an air of smugness that made Olivia's blood boil. Her eyes flicked toward the speaker, anger flashing in their depths, but she quickly reined it in, forcing herself to calm down. She couldn't afford to lose her composure in front of all these people.
"Thank you for saving me and my child, young Madam," Olivia finally spoke, her voice steady, though there was an underlying tension that only those who knew her well could detect. "We are very grateful." She plastered on a remorseful expression, as if her words carried any sincerity, but Sophie wasn't fooled. Sophie had been around Olivia long enough to recognize the sarcasm laced within the seemingly polite reply. She could hear it—the subtle grit in Olivia's teeth, the tightness in her jaw. She wasn't truly thankful, and it was obvious to anyone who cared enough to look closely.
