Chapter 32

It was just a place to sleep. What did it matter where Melody slept? After all, she only had ten days left; she could endure anything.

“Where are my things?” she asked.

Christopher initially saw that she was angry, but her expression quickly returned to a neutral calm. He replied, “Cynthia had someone put your things in the small guest room.”

Melody walked to the other small room. When she opened the door, she saw the floor littered with her belongings, tossed in disarray. One might have thought they were trash if they didn’t know better.

Behind her, Sheldon gasped. The way Cynthia was treating Melody was truly harsh—her room had been taken over, and now she had to sleep in this… mess.

Christopher, who had followed behind, also saw the scene. He paused, then turned to Cynthia and frowned. “Is this how Fiona handles things? Just throwing them on the floor?”

“I’m sorry, Christopher. I checked at the time; I didn’t know she would be so careless. I’ll have a word with her later,” Cynthia said, biting her lip, her eyes full of apology. “Mel, let me help you clean up. I’m really sorry. Please don’t be mad at me,” she added, stepping forward to squeeze into the doorway.

“No need,” Melody coldly refused.

“Mel,” Cynthia’s voice took on a slightly pitiful tone as she stood there helplessly, looking to Christopher for support.

“Do you really have to speak to Cynthia like that? It’s not her fault your things were thrown out. Why are you taking your anger out on her?” he said sternly to Melody. Melody clenched her fists, and unable to hold back any longer, she retorted, “What anger? Did I say something harsh or hit her? I simply said I would clean up myself.” Christopher paused before responding, “Your tone is off, and you’re giving her the cold shoulder.”

“Really? If she doesn’t like it, she can leave,” she sneered.

Seeing that she didn’t change her attitude, Christopher became even angrier. He grabbed Cynthia’s hand and turned to leave. “Good intentions wasted. Cynthia, don’t mind her.”

Once they were gone and the room was quiet again, Melody crouched down to pick up her things from the floor. Mrs. Fuller Sheldon placed her bag on the bedside table and began helping her.

Today, he had witnessed Cynthia’s tactics—playing the helpless, innocent act. Clearly, there was nothing wrong with Melody’s tone earlier, yet Cynthia still acted as if she had been wronged. Then, Christopher just scolded Melody without a clear understanding.

“You can leave, Sheldon. I can handle it myself,” Melody said.

“It’s fine. Mr. Fuller hasn’t called for me yet,” Sheldon replied, his sympathy for her growing.

Just as he finished speaking, a cold voice came from behind, “Sheldon.”

Sheldon turned to see Christopher standing by the door, his face dark with anger. Sheldon reluctantly stood up, leaving. No one was helping Melody clean up, so he did—only for Christopher to get jealous.

“Help me throw these away. Thank you,” Melody said, gathering the bedsheets, pillow, and thin blanket into a plastic bag and handing it to Sheldon. They were soiled and repulsive—she didn’t even want to touch them, not knowing how many times those two had used them.

“Okay,” he took the bag.

“Why throw them away? Where are you going to sleep?” Christopher asked from the side, his brows furrowed. She was throwing away the pillow and blanket—did she plan on running away again?