Chapter 32

Grace had not been expecting to come across Lily again so quickly.

Lily looked the same as when Grace had met her for the first time all those years ago.

She was tall and thin in the way only actresses could be. Her skin had a perfect glow. Meticulously applied makeup, haute couture clothes, expensive designer handbag…

She looked every bit the actress and fiancee to one of the richest men in the city.

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If not for either of those things, she was still the only daughter of the Atkinson family and a socialite in her own right.

Even then, when Lily permitted others to rip out her nails, she was still dressed exquisitely. Her expensive and branded clothes stood out in the dark prison.

She looked so radiant and glamorous, then. And now.

It was also this city socialite, highly esteemed by everyone else, who’d made it her goal to see Grace tortured and abused. There was a moment when Grace understood Lily’s plight. Jennifer, Lily’s sister, had died. But it was an accident!

to Jennifer. They were related,

Lily to be so vengeful, so focused on hating Grace at every turn, even years later, it

that wasn’t the case. She deeply regretted the

sneered. “I was wondering who this is. Isn’t she the perpetrator who killed Jennifer? This sure is karma. I can’t believe she’s now here working as a

and she remained silent. She lowered her head and continued to sweep up the rubbish that had fallen around the

thick-skinned,” Annabelle said. “If it were me who had killed someone’s sister, I’m afraid I would cry bitterly as I knelt down and begged for forgiveness. I can’t believe that some

“I’ve already paid the price.” She held the broom in front of her, a physical barrier to encourage these two women to keep their distance.

she’d learned in the course of her trial and when she’d been

over an unwarranted accusation and

jail and could only be

Big deal. You’re

was only three years in prison and you think that’s the price?” Lily asked coldly. “It should’ve

the worst life possible. I have no family. No friendships. Everything I’ve worked for was taken from me. Did you come here to

her, making a sweep from the top of Grace’s messy head

years’ time, the woman’s originally dark and long hair had withered and

hands. They were smooth and fair, and the

not holding a high-quality fountain pen but a rough and dirty broom.

your hands have not

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