Sienna Johnson walked out onto the lawn, furiously kicking at the grass. A knot of frustration tightened in her chest, a feeling she couldn't vent.
Adrian Desmond approached, gently stopping Sienna's childish outburst. "Don't be upset," he said softly. "Madam Johnson will be fine."
Sienna retorted irritably, "Who said I was worrying about her? Which of your eyes saw me looking sad? Didn't you hear what Samara said? That I'm cold-hearted and ungrateful? Madam Johnson condescended, and I was supposedly putting on airs, even showing my temper to her. Now, Madam Johnson's fragile heart can't take it, so she's chosen to die…"
"Samara is just a child!"
"A child? A child? Ha ha…" Sienna laughed coldly.
Adrian stepped closer and pulled her into his arms. "Don't be angry. If your anger affects our son, I won't let you off easily."
Sienna swatted at him. "Your son, your son, that's all you care about!"
