There was no anger on Grace’s face, no sadness, no resentment.
There was only a profound, unsettling calmness that was almost unnerving.
She parted her lips, and her voice, though not loud, carried clearly to everyone’s ears.
“I’m finished. Enjoy your meal.”
With that, she stood up, pushed back her chair, and turned to leave.
Her movements were smooth and fluid, graceful and composed, without the slightest hesitation.
The Hart family was completely stunned.
They had imagined countless possibilities.
That she would cry, scream, accuse them, become hysterical.
They had even prepared their responses.
But they had never expected this.
A complete and utter indifference, devoid of any emotion.
As if... she had just come over for a casual, insignificant meal.
And was now leaving because she was done.
This feeling of being completely ignored, of being treated like thin air, was more humiliating than any heated confrontation.
“Stop right there!”
Lucian was the first to snap out of it, his voice a low growl of pure indignation. “What is the meaning of this? What do you take the Hart family for? A place you can just come and go as you please?”
“You’ve really grown some wings! You ungrateful brat!”
Grace’s steps didn’t even falter.
The harsh insults were like a passing breeze.
But Dorian, who was far more sensitive than Lucian, had read something different in her final glance.
It wasn’t a tantrum, not a fit of pique.
It was... the resolution of dead ashes, a finality born after all hope and expectation had been burned away.
His heart suddenly sank.
A strange sense of panic seized him.
He realized that something was being irrevocably, completely lost.
Almost on instinct, he was the first to run after her.
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