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After a short while, Lily appeared, holding a pair of scissors. She approached Hazel and handed them over. Hazel took the scissors and examined the blades, checking their sharpness with a strange, focused intensity. Lily, watching her closely, couldn’t help but ask, “For what do you need it, ma’am?”

Hazel looked up, her lips curling into a smile that seemed both genuine and unsettling. “Actually, I thought I’d start making dresses,” she said casually, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

Lily blinked, surprised by Hazel’s response. This wasn’t the Hazel she knew —calm, composed, always in control. Before she could ask anything further, Hazel turned and walked back toward her room. The other maids, standing nearby, exchanged glances, their faces reflecting the same shock and confusion that Lily felt. Hazel’s odd behavior and disheveled appearance had thrown the entire household into quiet unease.

Hazel reached her room, her movements deliberate as she opened her closet.
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