Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

Chapter 695 "So, let's all try to understand each other a bit better, okay?"

Though Murray's face was still a mask of stiffness, the uproar had ceased. Clearly, he had taken those words to heart.

Grace let out a soft sigh of relief, but...

The whispers and pointed stares from the crowd were making her uncomfortably self-conscious.

After all, her boyfriend had just made a public spectacle over another woman. And not just any woman, but a fellow student from the same college, albeit under a different mentor. The gossip mill would have a field day with this.

Gossip, as it turns out, is a universal pastime. The size of the audience depends on the juiciness of the story.

Sybil watched the commotion over Roseanne with a derisive snort, "Ridiculous!"

All this fuss over... what?

Roseanne was still alive, wasn't she?

was all this

we all owe her something?" Mamie shot back, "How can you even talk like that? She's one of us. If you're not going to help, fine, but there's no need to stir up trouble in front of

leave. We didn't ask for your help. But since Mr. Slater here is so aggrieved, perhaps he should just go home and get some sleep. We're not insisting you lend a hand, but there's no need to

pleasure!" Slater snapped, turning on his heel. "You think I want to stand out here in the cold?!" Sybil rolled her eyes and followed him, "I'm tired. Going back to

The crowd gradually dispersed.

it wasn't their circus, not their monkeys. Plus, with nothing

end, only Murray, Grace, a few staff members, Scales, Mamie, and three of the supervising teachers remained at

the sky began to

adding to the

carrying a damp chill, seeped through the cracks of the

her wool coat tighter around her, walked to the window and peered out

lay an impenetrable darkness, with trees swaying in the wind and

you have

the morning, as the rain eased and the temperature dropped sharply Owen Reynolds remarked, "Must be the climate

tropical zone, where temperatures shouldn't

here they were, in an area simulating