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Chapter 18

作者: Marysol James
last update 最終更新日: 2026-02-04 20:34:01

IRIS

I sit on the edge of the bed for a very long time after Thomas leaves.

The room is quiet, but it's not empty. His presence lingers the way heat does after a fire has been banked rather than extinguished: still there, still shaping the air, even though the source has stepped away. The sheets are rumpled where we slept last night, where his body has been, and my skin remembers the weight of his hand at my jaw, the certainty of his mouth on mine, the way he stopped when I panicked without ma
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    MARGARETI’ve been inside the Ashcroft house longer than anyone likes to remember.Longer than the paint on the walls, longer than the locks on the doors, longer even than Helen’s marriage, though she likes to pretend otherwise. I arrived at the age of twenty-five – young enough to be useful, old enough to know better – and I've stayed because I learned early that the most powerful position in any home is not ownership, but proximity.You see everything when people forget you’re there.I watched Helen become Mrs. Ashcroft with a smile that never reached her eyes, watched her sweep through rooms like she was performing for an audience that had already grown bored. She was truly beautiful then, but in a hard, brittle way, all angles and ambition. I hated her immediately, instinctively, because she never once looked at Thomas the way I did.She wanted his name. His money. His position. I wanted him.Not in a foolish, romantic way....no fantasies, no delusions that I would ever be chosen.

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