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Laura’s sharp voice sliced through the silence, jolting Georgia out of her reverie.
“I told you–I locked the door by accident! I didn’t mean to. What else do you want from me?” Her tone was laced with frustration and accusation.
Laura had nursed a simmering resentment ever since catching Georgia and Dominic sharing a secret kiss in the stairwell. She’d made her feelings clear, convinced that Georgia owed her gratitude rather than weakness.
But now, staring at Georgia’s pale, fragile face, Laura’s anger wavered, replaced by a gnawing confusion. She recalled how Dominic had once stepped in for Georgia when Preston bullied her at Vetro Club. Why had Dominic singled Georgia out for kindness? The more Laura dwelled on it, the more her resentment deepened.
In Laura’s eyes, Georgia didn’t measure up–she wasn’t as beautiful, not as sweet, not nearly as well–educated. Yet Dominic treated Georgia with a warmth Laura could never understand.
“Maybe,” Laura thought bitterly, “Georgia must have slept with him. That’s the only explanation.”
She looked at Georgia with undisguised contempt.
Georgia lowered her eyes, hiding the turmoil she felt beneath a calm facade. Three years behind bars had forged in her a quiet endurance, a practiced acceptance.
Slowly, she raised her gaze and met Laura’s with steady resolve. “If you care about Mr. Foster, you shouldn’t be wasting time on me. He’ll only look down on you if all you do is bully me.”
Though she had learned to endure suffering in silence, Georgia had not surrendered her pride. She refused to let Laura’s cruelty define her. One sentence was enough to shatter Laura’s façade, and Georgia knew exactly how to cut through the
tension.
Laura’s expression twisted, her face suddenly drawn and almost unrecognizable. Her eyes widened, disbelief flickering
across them.
“Shut up!” she snapped, voice cracking with fury. “You think Dominic would fall for a shameless slut like you? You’re nothing but a whore!”
Laura’s scorn was a vicious lash, her confidence suddenly roaring back.
Georgia felt a heavy weight settle on her head, her body trembling under the assault. She lifted her chin defiantly, the room spinning as shadows closed in on her. Clenching her fist, she welcomed the sting–anything to steady herself.
There was something she had to say to Laura, something that cut deeper than any insult.
“Laura,” she said softly, “if you truly care for someone, shouldn’t you cherish them honestly? Shouldn’t they be the only one in your heart? But when I look at you and Mr. Foster, it seems you think about me more than you do him. I don’t understand. Maybe your love is just an act. How much do you really love him?”
Laura gasped, color rushing to her cheeks in embarrassment. Her face twisted into something fierce and ugly.
“So you’re saying I don’t love him? What do you know about love, you filthy whore?”
Georgia frowned, shaking her head slowly. She never claimed to be involved with Dominic, much less in love. To her, he was just a client–someone she couldn’t afford to offend or understand.
Laura’s meltdown was proof enough that Georgia’s words had hit their mark.
“Why shake your head?” Laura sneered. “You think you’re better than me? Let me tell you, Georgia–everyone in this world can look down on you. Not the other way around.”
Georgia’s body trembled, and she lowered her eyes, crushed by the truth in Laura’s words. Everyone could despise her, but she had no right to judge anyone.
Her mind drifted to Preston. Are you satisfied now?
Laura’s eyes flickered with disdain at Georgia’s broken posture. The sight churned her stomach.
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“Just remember,” she spat, “you’re nothing but a cripple. Don’t ever try to seduce Dominic again.”
With that, Laura spun on her heel and disappeared into her bedroom.
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Georgia fled to the bathroom, letting the scalding water wash over her before curling into a tight ball beneath the quilt.
Though the heat pressed down outside, Georgia felt chilled to the bone, trembling as if she could freeze solid. She curled tighter still, seeking warmth in the smallest corner she could find.
Eventually, exhaustion claimed her.
“Hey! Get up!”
A harsh shove snapped her awake. Laura loomed over her.
“Don’t push me–I feel dizzy,” Georgia muttered weakly.
Laura paused, then sneered, “You think I want to be here? Get up, it’s time for work! Last time you skipped, Charlotte chewed me out. I’m not taking that again. Move!”
Heat and cold crashed through Georgia’s head, clouding her thoughts. But the word work cut through the fog like a knife. She had to keep going.
She pushed herself upright, wincing as pain shot through her limbs, nearly collapsing.
Laura’s frown deepened. “Stop wasting time. No one’s around, so quit pretending you’re fragile.”
Georgia ignored the taunts, wrapping herself in heavy clothes and slipping on her shoes.
Laura scoffed, “I’ve been caught in the rain before. You’re acting like you’re some special snowflake.”
Rubbing her head, Georgia turned. “Laura, no man wants a cruel woman. If you want Dominic to see you differently, you should stop talking like that.”
Prepared to endure whatever humiliation Laura had left, Georgia thought back to her childhood.
Her brother used to say sick people had a right to be willful. Back then, she clung to Preston despite knowing he found her tiresome. When she was ill, she begged him to nap with her. “Sick people have the right to be willful,” she’d told him shamelessly. “I’m sick. If you don’t nap with me, I won’t get better.”
For the first time, Preston agreed.
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