At a time like this, Emma was surprisingly calm.
She'd been through worse. Her father had passed away before she turned two, and her mother had died when she was only five, leaving her nothing but a worn-out rag doll and one final request: to hide her true face and keep the birthmark on her chest concealed.
Raised in an orphanage, Emma had done whatever it took to survive. Compared to all she had gone through, this duel with Agnes felt like nothing more than a bored aristocrat's cruel little game.
She wasn't afraid of losing. In fact, she was confident. She knew she wouldn't lose.
Emma ended the phone call and returned to her desk, focusing on her work. Suddenly, the door banged open, and Wendy burst in, her face flushed with urgency. "Emma, do you even know who Agnes' teacher is?!"
E
