Chapter 136

"The next trip to town probably won't be until the New Year shopping," Emily Johnson murmured, gently smoothing Amy Bright's hair with tender fingers.

She suddenly leaned close to the girl's ear and whispered, "Remember to invite me along, Amy. I hate being lied to—understand?" Before the girl could react, Emily magically produced a handful of White Rabbit candies from her pocket. "Here, something sweet."

Amy, flustered by the sudden affection, clutched the candies and dashed home breathlessly.

"Grandma!" She burst into the house, recounting Emily's words verbatim before proudly opening her palm. "Look!"

Grandma Bright squinted at the seven or eight candies and felt her pulse quicken. This city girl was certainly generous.

"The village women resent Emily for not working the fields—it's natural they'd exclude her," Grandma Bright mused, picking up a candy to examine under the lamplight. "But if she's got your third brother wrapped around her finger, she must be clever. Visit her more often. Learn from her."

The crisp sound of unwrapping candy pierced the quiet room. As the sweetness melted on her tongue, Amy suddenly thought Emily was even sweeter than the candy.

Meanwhile, chaos reigned at the Lee household.

"Useless girl!" Old Man Lee swung a broom at his daughter. "Charles Clark dotes on you, doesn’t he? Why can’t you squeeze a dowry out of him?"

Margaret Lee cowered in the corner, her thin cotton coat covered in dust. She didn’t dare dodge—or even cry.

"Husband, if we don’t get the money soon, our eldest will go to jail," Mrs. Lee fretted, wringing her hands. "What’ll happen to the grandchildren then?"

Old Man Lee’s face darkened as he yanked Margaret up by the collar. "Beg Charles again. If you fail..." He smirked coldly. "Don’t blame me for finding you another solution."

When Margaret stumbled to the Clark residence, Mrs. Clark was dumping a basin of dirty water in the yard.

"Oh, look—the princess graces us!" Mrs. Clark jeered, deliberately splashing the filthy water at Margaret’s feet. "Three hundred for a dowry? What, are you made of gold?"

The gate slammed shut. Margaret stood frozen in the bitter wind, tears icing on her cheeks before they could fall.

Suddenly, she remembered Emily’s gentle smile as she handed Amy those candies.

Why was fate so cruel to some girls—and so kind to others?