Chapter: 1818

The maid didn't finish her words, but it was clear what she meant to say.

Rosa glanced down at the scarf. A gust of wind swept through, causing her eyes to sting.

She took a deep breath and said, “Just throw it away for me!"

“Throw it away?" The maid was clearly surprised. “But...”

“Your mother made this especially for you." That was what the maid intended to tell her.

Before she could finish, she got cut off by Rosa. "Just throw it away."

With that said, Rosa stuffed her hands into her coat pockets, turned around, and left. The maid stood frozen outside the gate, holding the scarf. She gazed as Rosa's figure faded away, sporting a mix of confusion and pity in her eyes.

She wondered what kind of trials Rosa had faced to turn so disheartened that she'd become this composed and detached.

In the Gibson Mansion, Rachel arrived as evening settled in. The setting sun's last beams lit up the street, bringing a hint of warmth to the bone-chilling winter day.

As Rachel stepped out of the car, she spotted Mason standing there with a cane, waiting on the curb.

At the sight of her, Mason sauntered up and greeted, "Miss Bennet, you made it."

"Mason, why are you hanging outside?" Rachel was a tad surprised to find Mason waiting outdoors. She hadn't expected him to be waiting specifically for her. "Is someone important dropping by?"

Mason grinned, saying, “Yeah, I've been keeping an eye out for you."

"Me? You've been waiting for me?"

"A few lights in our yard have been on the fritz lately. Mr. Gibson reckoned with the darkness setting in, you might struggle finding your way without much lighting," Mason explained with a grin, his tone hinting at jest, leaving Rachel unsure if he was pulling her leg.

Irrespective of the truth behind it, Rachel hadn't forgotten the purpose of her visit. “Alright, could you show me the way?" she requested.

"With pleasure." Mason turned and led Rachel inside.

The last time Rachel had visited the Gibson Mansion, darkness had shrouded everything, leaving her unable to discern the surroundings.

Now, stepping in again, she scanned around, finding the place even grander than expected, a sight to behold.

In the distance, she caught sight of some blossoms in the garden not far off. “Mason, do roses still bloom in this season?" she inquired, surprised.

It wasn't common to see such vibrancy in winter.

"They were flown in from abroad, per Mr. Gibson's orders." Following Rachel's gaze, Mason asked, “Are you fond of roses?"

Rachel shook her head, saying, "Not particularly, but they don't irk me either."

Mason slowed his pace and remarked, puzzled, "That's an interesting take."