Clara's sharp shout cut through the room, drawing everyone's attention at once.
Riley froze mid-step, lips twitching.
Great… I got caught before I even have a proper look.
Only then did the others realize she had slipped inside. A flicker of annoyance crossed Mr Hales's face.
"Madam Riley, Master Adrian has already returned to his room. If you have nothing to do, go back to yours," he said flatly. "The doctors said Mrs Hales's wound is severely infected. She can't be exposed to bacteria. Your stuffed toy is full of germs. Leave at once."
Riley glanced back at the woman lying unconscious on the bed. "I just want to check if Mrs Hales needs help."
"There's nothing here for you to help with," Mr Hales replied, his tone growing sharper. "Please leave."
If Riley weren't Adrian's wife, they would've thrown her out with a broom by now.
But Mrs Hales's condition…
It was bad.
Riley's gaze darkened.
The infection had already worsened.
If it wasn't treated soon, even if she survived, she'd lose the leg above the knee.
No one else knew what Riley was thinking.
All they saw was a "fool" meddling where she didn't belong.
To them, she was just here to gawk. To make things worse.
Clara immediately stepped forward, grabbing Riley's arm and dragging her out. "Stop causing trouble and get out! Do you even realize your presence could kill Mrs Hales?"
The accusation landed hard.
Instantly, hostile gazes fell on Riley from all sides.
Clara smirked inwardly, tightening her grip. Her sharp nails dug into Riley's soft skin.
Riley's eyes dimmed.
In the next second, her wrist twisted.
A subtle flick.
Clara's face contorted in pain.
She yelped and let go, clutching her arm. "You fool! What did you do to me?!"
Riley hugged her stuffed bunny, blinking innocently. "I didn't do anything."
"You did! You hit me! Otherwise why does my arm suddenly hurt and go numb? I can't feel anything!"
Riley tilted her head, looking harmless. "I don't know. I'm very good."
"Riley!" Clara's eyes burned with fury. She was about to lash out—
"Enough!"
A stern voice cut her off.
Another maid had rushed out, and Mr Hales followed, his presence immediately silencing the commotion.
"What's going on? Isn't there enough chaos already? Why are you shouting?" he demanded.
Clara shrank slightly under his gaze, but quickly lifted her head again.
"Mr Hales, I'm not trying to cause trouble. It's her—she went behind my back and hurt me. My arm hurts so much I can't even move it!"
Mr Hales frowned and looked at Riley.
She stood there calmly, not a hint of guilt on her face.
He turned back to Clara. "You're saying Madam Riley hit you? Did anyone see it?"
Madam Riley might not be bright, but she looked quiet enough. Not the type to lash out physically.
The surrounding maids all shook their heads. No one had seen anything—they had only heard Clara suddenly scream.
Clara's eyes widened in disbelief. "Mr Hales, it really was her!"
Mr Hales glanced at her exposed arm.
There wasn't a single mark on it.
Too fake.
Already drained by Mrs Hales's situation, he had no patience left for this.
"Enough," he said irritably, waving her off. "There's not even a scratch. Stop pretending. Go do your work. Don't make things worse here."
Clara stood there, stunned—furious, humiliated, and unable to say another word.