"I'm so sorry you had to see that."
Deborah shook her head quickly, speaking cautiously. "No, it's... it's fine..."
She stole a glance at Clive. Seeing his gloomy expression, she was too scared to say more and hid behind Carola.
Carola, however, looked unbothered. After hearing Clive’s story, her expression turned just as cold and dark as his. She stepped forward familiarly, her tone concerned. "Clive, don't stay angry. Someone like Leilani isn't worth it."
Carola had clashed with Leilani several times. Every time, she and Tamara had lost. New grudges piled on old hate made Carola despise Leilani even more. She looked at Clive with a sense of shared enmity. "Leilani really hasn't changed a bit. Still so delusional about her place in the world. Clive, you don't know—Tamara and I have run into her a few times. She always has that pretentious look on her face. It makes me want to vomit. No wonder you're mad. And if you ask me, Clive, you're too nice. If it were me, I would have made sure she couldn't show her face in public right then and there!"
Clive laughed coldly. He didn't speak, but the gloom in his eyes deepened.
Deborah stood to the side, listening to their descriptions of Leilani, completely stunned. In her memory, Leilani was a quiet girl who always kept her head down, afraid to look at anyone. She was stubborn, yes, but she never actively provoked anyone.
But hearing Clive and Carola now, it sounded like four years in prison hadn't humbled her at all—if anything, she had become arrogant?
Deborah hesitated, then asked in a small voice, "Is Leilani... really that bad now?"
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