Chapter 700:
Brad raised an umbrella above Rylie, protecting her as they stepped into the courtyard.
A faint cry echoed from the neighboring yard. Rylie shifted her gaze discreetly and caught sight of a woman pressed against a window, her expression etched with hopelessness behind the rain-streaked glass.
She quickly averted her eyes, feigning ignorance as they stepped into the house. “Oh, Terrell, what brings you here?” Abram exclaimed, his expression tightening when he noticed Rylie. “And this young lady as well.”
Terrell replied evenly, “She’s concerned about your wife and wanted to see with her own eyes that you haven’t mistreated her.”
“Of course I haven’t,” Abram protested, then raised his voice toward the back of the house. “Come here and tell the officer yourself how you ended up with those marks on your arm and the cut on your mouth.”
The young woman stepped forward hesitantly, her gaze fixed on the floor. “I hurt myself by accident while working in the fields,” she murmured. “My husband hasn’t done anything to me. There’s really no need for you to come all this way over something so trivial.”
Outside, the storm howled, and the gusts rattled the house, making the lights inside flicker unsteadily.
“It’s getting late,” Abram said briskly, turning to his wife. “Go on and make dinner for our guests.”
After surveying the room, Rylie sat down with Brad, and for a moment, the four of them sat silently around the table.
“I’ll check on her,” Rylie suggested, rising and heading toward the kitchen.
Abram made a move to follow, but Brad pressed a firm hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place. “Since Miss Owen wishes to speak with her privately, why don’t you stay here and keep me company?”
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Rylie entered the kitchen and stepped up to the young woman at the stove. “Are you certain you don’t need any help from me?”
The woman managed a faint smile. “I’ve come to accept my life as it is. I believe there’s been some kind of misunderstanding, Miss Owen.”
“Just look around you.” Rylie motioned toward the cramped kitchen and the woman’s worn clothing with open disdain. “Your palms are rough, your skin is burned from the sun, and your clothes are in tatters, yet your husband won’t even buy you replacements. This room isn’t half the size of my bathroom. What is there here that makes it worth enduring? If I were in your place, I’d have left long ago.”
Rylie’s words landed squarely, piercing the woman’s guarded heart.
The woman slammed the knife against the cutting board, her glare sharp and unyielding as it settled on Rylie. “Everyone has their own path to follow. And soon, we’ll have a house, a big villa. New clothes will come sooner or later.”
Rylie’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “So you were never abducted after all.”
The woman stiffened at the remark, her hands pausing mid-motion. Had Rylie chosen those words deliberately, just to see how she would react?
The woman quickly looked away and went back to her cooking.
Rylie pointed toward the house across the way. “Is that the place involved in trafficking?”
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