"Well..."
The servants exchanged uneasy glances, their lips pressed tight as if biting back words.
How could they possibly say outright that the Mrs. Camilla had knocked out Ramsey?
The events of this evening had made them painfully aware that even a high-paying job like theirs came with its share of difficulties.
Grandpa Luther observed their expressions keenly, his deep-set eyes flickering with understanding.
Resting his clasped hands atop his cane, he didn't press further.
Instead, he changed the subject, his voice low and grave.
"Where are Sinclair and Camilla?"
What truly worried him was the possibility of Sinclair's condition flaring up again.
At this, the servants stiffened, their faces paling into utter silence.
They had no idea what Mr. Sinclair and his wife were in the backyard.
But since they hadn't informed grandpa themselves, it clearly meant they didn't want him to know.
None of them dared spill a word.
"Is there a problem?"
