A cacophony of footsteps echoed through the affluent hallway, shattering the fragile peace that had settled in the room. Holly, mid-feign, recoiled dramatically as the heavy oak door swung open, revealing a harried-looking Jorge in his late forties. His face, etched with worry lines, creased further as his gaze fell upon Emilia, who cowered in the corner, her eyes wide with a fresh wave of terror.
Relief washed over Holly like a tidal wave. Recognition flickered in her eyes as she stammered out, " Jorge, thank goodness you're here! This girl attacked me! See, here are the bruises," she croaked, her voice strained, gesturing towards the tell-tale marks of Shane's grip on her neck.
But Jorge, weary of Holly's machinations, wasn't believing it. He had seen through her facade. His voice, usu
