Vanessa sat in her room, hugging her knees at her chest, staring blankly at the wall in front of her.
Her skin was pale and dry, her eyes rimmed with dark circles from several anxious, sleepless nights she had spent agonizing over her grave mistake.
The woman had confined herself to the Bennett mansion for quite some time now, only leaving her room late at night when everyone else was asleep. It was as though she were a ghost haunting the hallways, avoiding the judgmental gazes of the household staff.
Vanessa even refused to talk to Rachel, her assistant, leaving her share of work in her capable hands.
Her mind was a storm of conflicting emotions about what she had done to Liam that cursed night.
She had crossed a line, and she knew it. But the silence that followed was even more unnerving; it was mere torture. No one had tried to confront her, no one had asked questions. The lack of confrontation only heightened her anxiety and fright.