Rochelle Bradley shifted uncomfortably, with her fingers twisting together, while avoiding Rosa's gaze.
The housekeeper's words had already painted a picture that didn't match the woman Rochelle worked for. The poised host on television and the abused wife in this house felt like two different people!
Meanwhile, Rosa took Rochelle's silence as an invitation to continue the gossip. After taking a sip from her teacup, she continued. "That's not even all. I could go on and on about what really happens in this hou—"
THUD!
The sound was so loud and sickening, the both women froze.
Rochelle turned to the direction of the sound. "What… what was that?"
Rosa: "..."
They walked slowly toward the floor-to-ceiling glass window that overlooked the garden.
The sight beyond it made Rosa scream.
The glass roof of the garden lay shattered. The metal beams bent inward, destroyed under the force of something heavy!
The sight left them in confusion until blood streaked across the tiles, leading away from the wreckage.
"Oh my God—blood—" Rosa staggered back, clutching her chest. "I have to call the police!"
She turned and ran, her slippers slapping against the marble as she fumbled for her phone.
Rochelle was in a state of shock. Her eyes were locked on the blood trail.
What if...
In an instant, Rochelle's body gave an involuntary jump. "Mrs. Colburn?" she called out, rushing to the door.
~♡~
Badum. Badum.
Brianna stood frozen, listening to her heartbeat.
"Mrs. Colburn? Mrs. Colburn is that you? Ah! There's blood on my shoe!"
It sounded muffled, but it slowly brought her back to her senses. The reality of what had happened just now made her feet sway until she was on all fours.
"It's not real. It's not real. It's not real." Brianna repeated, crawling to the edge of the balcony.
And when she dared looked down, her vision blurred and she was unable to control her breathing.
Below, Rochelle moved through the wreckage, trying to reach her boss, picking up fallen metal and glass as she went. Then she froze when she heard panicked gasps.
Looking up, her fingers let go. Seeing Brianna alive made her finally breathe and she rushed inside.
~♡~
By the time Rochelle reached the balcony, seeing the state Brianna was in, her heart weakened. "Mrs. Colburn,"
Brianna was lost in processing what happened that she didn't hear when Rochelle came in. Her head was buried on her knees, which were drawn to her chest. She rocked herself back and forth, mumbling words Rochelle couldn't process.
Rochelle rushed to knee beside her, passing an arm over her shoulders. She wasn't sure how to comfort a professional therapist; it'd feel like a lie.
"Mrs. Colburn, what are you feeling right now?"
Hearing her own therapeutic words used on her, Brianna finally looked up from her knees. Her makeup was a mess.
Her breathing, nothing to talk about. And the ash from children, glued to her face from tears.
She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I—I didn't mean to—I swear, I didn't know he'd—I—He—Hu-hu-huuuuuu!"
Rochelle tapped her back gently. With everything Rosa told her about this two's marriage, she'd say Mr. Colburn deserves what he got!
The man was abusive and he probably hurt her, given the 'dirt' on her body. Maybe he dragged her around or hit her. And she had enough and killed him.
"There, there, Mrs. Colburn—I know you didn't intentionally do this. He made you this way. He turned you into a..."
Murderer...
She looked at Rochelle with hollow, terrifyingly empty eyes. "Rochelle... am I a murderer now? Is that what I am?"
Rochelle was terrified. "I—I—"
Brianna reached for Rochelle's hands. "The show... they'll have to cancel the show, won't they? You can't have a 'Marriage Goddess' who kills her husband. It's bad for the ratings."
"Mrs. Colburn," Rochelle eyes watered instantly at the heaviness of Brianna's word. "But—But it's his fault."
Brianna shook her head, she didn't believe it was any other's fault but hers. Her head dropped down in defeat, resting on Rochelle's shoulder.
The moment her brain figured out what was on Rochelle's sleeves, she stiffly raised her head.
Realising her boss was acting strange, Rochelle felt a strange course to ask. "Are you okay?"
Rochelle hadn't realized she was still reaching for her until Brianna crawled backward, her back hitting the balcony wall with a dull thud.
Brianna looked at Rochelle's palm—stained with the dark, wet crimson of Lucian's fall—and recoiled as if she'd been burned.
To Brianna, that blood was the end of the world. To Rochelle, it was a stain on her perfect internship.
"It's... it's okay," Rochelle stammered, her voice shaking despite her attempt at calmness.
But then she froze, staring at the blood on her hands. "I—I don't even know if I should… call someone? Or stay?" She reached for Brianna, then pulled back, shaking her head. "I… I don't know what's right... But I do know this. Mrs. Colburn, listen to me. Your career—this won't destroy it. We can handle this."
Inside, Rochelle felt a wave of nausea. What am I saying? She was Rochelle Bradley. She came from a family where 'scandal' was a dirty word and the law was something they donated to, not broke.
She was an intern! She was supposed to be filing scripts and getting coffee, not orchestrating a cover-up for a homicide.
She reprimanded herself instantly. I am a good person. I am a good girl. Good girls call the police.
But then she looked at Brianna, a victim of three years of Lucian's rot, and the "good girl" logic fractured.
If she called the police, the "Marriage Goddess" would die tonight. Brianna would be a headline, not a hero.
"I'm a witness," Rochelle whispered, more to herself than Brianna. "I heard... I heard how he was. I heard from Rosa. It's self-defense."
The word felt like lead in her mouth. She was choosing a side. Then, like a bucket of ice water, the memory of the foyer returned.
"Rosa!" Rochelle bolted upright, her eyes flying to the door. "The phone! I have to—Stay here. Don't move."
Brianna barely registered the words—but she saw her running out the door and returned to her broken self.
~♡~