Chapter 82:
“It’s not that I think Harlee is that kind of person.
Harlee, you’re not upset with me, are you? My intention was simply to remind you to safeguard the Sanderson family’s honor.”
Skyla shook her head, her expression a mix of frustration and disbelief.
“Etta, how could you even suspect Harlee of such a thing?”
Skyla withdrew her hand from Etta’s grasp with a determined flick and stepped to Harlee’s side, her stance firm and unyielding.
Having finally found her daughter back, she didn’t want Etta to drive a wedge between them.
“Skyla,” Etta tried again, her voice breaking as tears welled up.
“I truly didn’t mean it like that.
I was just scared that outsiders might misjudge Harlee…
I really do care about her.”
In a flurry of desperation, Etta lunged to clasp Skyla’s hand once more, but Skyla deftly avoided her, her expression clouded with annoyance.
Feeling deeply wronged, Etta was on the verge of bursting into tears and throwing herself into Skyla’s arms to beg for understanding when Skyla, struck by a sudden thought, interjected, “Etta, if you replace it so hard to get along with Harlee, perhaps you should consider replaceing your own place.”
Etta’s heart raced with panic.
How was she supposed to go on without them by her side? She was a part of the Sanderson family, destined to dwell within the grandeur of their family mansion.
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Etta’s opportunity to dissolve into tears and plead her case was snatched away by Harlee, who nonchalantly stretched and positioned herself between Skyla and Etta.
Harlee had listened quietly before she realized Etta was subtly trying to cast her in a scandalous light.
With Brenton present as a witness, Etta’s only recourse was to sob and defend her actions.
A faint smirk played on Harlee’s lips, her gaze icy as she locked eyes with Etta.
“So, passing judgment on me without any proof of wrongdoing is your way of showing affection? That’s enlightening.”
Though Harlee’s voice remained even, the weight of her words felt like a noose tightening around Etta’s neck.
Etta’s lower lip trembled as tears welled in her eyes, leaving her unable to replace her voice.
Desperation seeped into her plea to Skyla.
“Skyla, I really didn’t mean it.
You must believe me.
Harlee and I…
We’re truly close.
Please, don’t ask me to leave.”
For the evening’s auction, Etta had donned a pristine white dress adorned with delicate flowers, lending her an aura of innocence and grace.
Her tear-streaked cheeks only added to her seemingly fragile demeanor.
Brenton’s eyebrows knit together as he observed Etta, his expression souring.
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