Innumerable memories flooded Rose's mind like relentless nightmares, leaving her heart in turmoil. She made her way to the fridge, retrieved a chilled bottle of water, and drank it all, hoping to quell the unrest within her.

At this moment, a thud emanated from the fitting room, jolting Rose. Hastily, she approached and rapped on the door, concern evident in her voice. "Ms. Sparks, is everything alright? Ms. Sparks?"

No one responded. Rose felt something was off and barged into the fitting room.

"Ms. Sparks!"

Clarissa had fainted, her upper body exposed. Clarissa's back was covered with bruises and scabs formed by old injuries.

Rose was stunned for two seconds before she swiftly took off her coat to cover Clarissa's body. Then she carried her up.

"Ms. Sparks, wake up!"

consciousness, Rose's relief was palpable, yet her concern lingered. "How did

gaze, Clarissa turned

this to you?" Rose's eyes blazed with fury, their depths tinged

is a private matter. Please

wore her clothes. "I will transfer the money to you shortly. I will ask my assistant to collect the gown from you. Sorry for the

flee, Rose's voice cut through the air, "Ms. Sparks, domestic abuse isn't a singular event—it recurs, relentlessly

pretentious bastard? No matter how much you endure, your body will inevitably falter under the strain. Are you resigned to the possibility of

am I supposed to

is. If I fight back, I'll only end up dead." "Bullshit!" The domestic violence had struck a nerve in Rose. She shrieked, "You will end up dead if you don't retaliate! Ms.

she could finish, the door slammed shut, cutting

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