She snatched her purse off the couch and strode toward the restroom.

Sylvia offered an apologetic smile, taking the fresh towel from the waitress. She glanced earnestly at Yves. "Mr. Hanson, I'll go check on Mrs. Hanson. You two keep talking."

Yves gave her a chilly nod, barely feigning interest in his own wife.

Sylvia headed for the restroom.

Restroom.

As soon as Mrs. Hanson saw Sylvia, she dropped the edge of her skirt she'd just been lifting.

"What are you doing here? Useless girl. Wait till you marry into this family-you'll see how things really are."

Sylvia clutched the towel, voice soft. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Hanson. Maybe you should step into a stall and dry off a bit?"

The spill had landed in an awkward spot. If she didn't dry it, her underwear would be soaked through—uncomfortable, to say the least.

Mrs. Hanson clearly didn't want anyone seeing her, so the privacy of a stall was the best option.

But she hesitated.

Sylvia hurried on, "You can just hand me your skirt through the door. I'll dry it with the hand dryer. It won't take long."

submissive posture. "At least you know your place. Stay

that, Mrs. Hanson slipped into a stall


on drying the skirt, but her

hand and, with the

expected to find a stash of medication right

for bruises and swelling,

bottom

was the same as Yves's. Not surprising, really. Mrs. Hanson always seemed to watch

that had

easy. Anyone who'd seen the way

album was squeaky clean-clearly scrubbed of anything she didn't want anyone

curiously, the chat history with Kay

up, her

deferential to Kay as she

shen. In


pushed back, not

family wasn't in the same league

Garcias, but

submissive

she

and quickly snapped photos of their entire

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255