She frowned and said, "Sorry, I'm a bit blunt. Sylvia, you don't mind, do you?"
Mrs. Fairchild hadn't initially noticed Sylvia Lane's attire, but when her friend pointed it out, she felt embarrassed and scolded, "Not leaving yet? Do I need to repeat myself?"
Sylvia Lane's face flushed with anxiety, "I'm leaving right away..."
No one saw her off; Sylvia Lane walked out of the Fairchild Family's old mansion alone.
The servants standing by didn't show any intention of greeting her. Their attitudes clearly reflected their owner's stance.
With Mrs. Fairchild's unfriendly demeanor, these people gauged who to give respect to accordingly.
Sylvia Lane felt like she was walking on pins and needles, but had to pretend she was invited. Once she stepped out, cold sweat drenched her.
After putting on a mask, she casually found a place to rest. Thinking about how, just a few months back, she was riding high, and now, she could only sit here alone, sipping tea like a failure.
