"You are still very injured, Miss. Please be very careful." As Vivian tossed vases, glass glasses, and anything else that could break at the walls, Vivian's reliable maid, Hailey, stood by the side. Her hair was disheveled, and she appeared to have suffered significant further wounds; blood even trailed directly after her. Vivian stared wide-eyed at the damaged walls and all of the shattered glasses that were strewn across the floor; but, no matter how hard she flung those objects, they were unable to soothe her rage. Despite the fact that she was injured, she barely registered any of the agony. Vivian took a few shaky, labored breaths, and then she fell to the ground, exhausted. She was exhausted from everything. She lowered her head, cupped her hands around her ears, and squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could. She wanted to run away, she wanted to be free from her father, and she wanted to take the place that was rightfully hers, but she couldn't! The sudden presence of that ot
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