In the end, Sidney picked a novel that wasn't too thick, plopped down on the couch, and began reading, completely forgetting about her earlier plans to go explore.
At first, Sidney sat upright, focused on her book. After half an hour, she was leaning back against the couch, and another half hour later, she was sprawled out on it, completely relaxed. Eventually, she was lying flat on the sofa, thinking to herself, This sofa is really something else—so comfortable it's practically turning me into a puddle. Didn't expect Finnegan to have such good taste in furniture! She also noticed a surround sound system tucked into the corner of the study. She was tempted to turn it on, but then thought better of it. I'll ask Finnegan about it when he gets back, she decided.
She looked at the clock and realized it was almost noon. Sidney noted the page she was on, casually placed the book on the sofa, and went downstairs to prepare her lunch. The housekeeper was naturally in the kitchen at that time. Seeing Sidney, she asked what she wanted for lunch.
Sidney thought for a moment and casually said she wanted noodles. The housekeeper then ushered Sidney out of the kitchen, saying that making noodles was no problem for her.
After quickly eating the vegetable noodles, the housekeeper brought up the idea of hiring a chef again. Sidney said she still needed to think about it, so she went upstairs to finish her book.
Sidney lost herself in the story of Kassandra Valentine, a girl from another time. The events of Kassandra's childhood were engaging, filled with the peculiarities of an era long past. But as the tale neared its end, a sense of quiet melancholy lingered. No matter how joyful the moments of childhood may seem, there were always threads of sorrow woven in—the kind you couldn't escape, the kind you learned to live with. That was life. Just like Sidney's own childhood. The happiest days of her life had come to an abrupt end on her tenth birthday, and from there, all that followed were endless struggles—grief over her mother's death, the humiliation of living under someone else's roof. All of it, she had to bear in silence. She had even tried to open up to a boyfriend, confessing the truth of her background, only to be met with disdain and rejection. To be sold by her own family, and to accept it in silence, never daring to speak out—this was her life. The life she had been given, the life she had to endure. The book made her feel a bit heavy-hearted, so she put it back on the shelf and picked up another novel. This one had been made into a movie but she never had the chance to watch it. It was a suspense novel, over 400 pages long, so it should keep her occupied for a while. She took it down and lay back on the sofa, continuing her reading.
It wasn't until close to dinner time that the housekeeper came upstairs to check. Not finding her in the room, she went to the study and saw Sidney lying there. At first, she widened her eyes in surprise, then quickly returned to her usual poker face and calmly asked, "Madam, what would you like for dinner?"
Sidney was so absorbed in her reading that she didn't even have time to respond. She simply said, "Anything, just let the housekeeper decide from now on. I'm not picky," and once again immersed herself in the world of the book. It wasn't until the housekeeper came upstairs again to ask her to come down for dinner that she reluctantly put the book away.
The housekeeper quickly prepared a dish of roasted chicken, sautéed vegetables, and a bowl of creamy potato leek soup. After eating a little, Sidney seemed to remember something and, feeling slightly embarrassed, asked the housekeeper what she would be having for dinner and if she wanted to eat together. Although the Calderon family had a chef, she only ever prepared the three main meals and left afterward, and Sidney didn't know how to handle the situation.
The housekeeper replied that she had her own dinner and that Sidney didn't need to worry. Sidney then relaxed and continued eating. However, she didn't have a large appetite, and two dishes and a soup were too much for her to finish, so she asked the housekeeper not to make soup for her in the future to save some trouble. After thinking for a moment, she added that hiring a separate chef just for her seemed like a waste. If the housekeeper agreed, she would prefer to prepare her own lunch and dinner from now on!
The housekeeper's expression was subtle, as if she were looking at some alien creature, filled with disbelief. However, she eventually composed herself and respectfully said, "Madam, if you truly want to do this, I have no objections. But if you ever don't want to cook one day, you can always let me know."
Sidney nodded. She thought that before she started working, she had nothing to do all day, so why not do a bit of housework to pass the time?
Late at night, Jayson still hadn't returned, and Sidney didn't dare to call him, especially since they had parted on bad terms the previous night. After taking a shower, she turned on the bright lights and lay down in the same spot as last night, hoping to finish the novel she hadn't finished reading the night before. But as she read, she drifted off to sleep without even realizing what time it was. She dreamt the same nightmare again—blood filling the bathtub, the sharp, metallic smell suffocating her. Her mother's face slowly rose from the water, eyes wide and unblinking, staring at nothing. Sidney couldn't move, trapped in the bathroom, her chest tight with fear. Every time she tried to escape, the dream gripped her harder, leaving her frozen in terror. The dream then shifted to another scene. Aunt was screaming in despair, kneeling on the ground, begging her to set up a funeral for her mother. Sidney felt helpless, with no one willing to help her—only her father and sister watching coldly.
Sidney woke up from despair, dazedly staring at the unfamiliar ceiling. She gasped and immediately jumped up, only then realizing that she was in Jayson's house. She looked around the room, which was brightly lit. Everything was cold and orderly, arranged neatly with no extra items—empty and spacious. She wrapped herself tightly in the blanket, hugging her knees as she waited for dawn.
