🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 2
“She’s… going to be alright, right?”
The remaining maids glanced at each other, then spoke to me.
“We’ve done everything we can. All we can do now is wait.”
Erica Cloud. In the original story, she was such a vicious woman.
It wasn’t easy to keep her happy. She would throw plates and shatter them just because the heroine “ruined her appetite.” No matter how many sweet words people said to her, she wouldn’t even blink.
And yet… I’d just saved her life.
She should be fine… right?
At least, as family, she hadn’t treated me that badly so far. She was blunt and bold, but still.
Before long, the door burst open and someone rushed in.
The maids quickly bowed, and I instantly knew who it was.
The very same Martin Cloud — my husband — who was always “too busy” to spare even a moment for me.
His dark hair was messy, as if he had run here, and his deep red eyes gave nothing away.
But the icy look he gave me made my whole body tense.
Breathing hard, he spoke in a voice tight with suppressed emotion.
“Wife. Explain.”
It was the first time I’d seen my husband in a week. The anger in his voice wasn’t my imagination — everyone around us fell silent.
“Well… we were eating together, and she must have choked on a small piece of bread.”
“You’re telling me this now…!”
Martin ran a hand through his hair roughly. He didn’t finish his sentence, but I knew what he wanted to say — You call that an explanation?
The heavy sigh that followed was enough to make me feel small.
It’s not like I wanted praise, but still…
The cold sweat on my forehead had already dried, yet he was scolding me. Out of habit, I hid the scrape on my wrist from when I’d grabbed Erica.
“I’ve brought Doctor Clinton.”
Right then, Mari appeared with the family doctor, breaking the tense mood.
Clinton examined Erica and asked me how I had given first aid. I answered in detail, while Martin kept running a hand through his hair, clearly restless.
Even as I spoke, I could hear his occasional sigh.
In that moment, I regretted agreeing to eat with Erica.
I should have just eaten alone like usual.
I should have sent her away the moment she came in.
“Oh… oh?”
Mari made a strange noise as she looked at Erica. Everyone’s eyes turned to the bed.
Erica blinked and glanced around, seeming to realize what had happened.
Martin rushed past me to grab her hand.
“Erica…”
“She should be fine after some rest,” the doctor reassured him.
Feeling that Erica was safe and the doctor was reliable, I wanted to slip away — this was my room, but the air was suffocating.
I was just about to leave when—
“Did I ever ask you to save me?”
Her words stopped me in my tracks.
Did I hear that right?
Was that really something to say to the person who just saved you?
I turned to see her pouting, lips pushed out.
“Save you…?”
Ignoring Martin’s questioning look, Erica continued,
“What was your motive? You never cared about me before.”
For a second, I regretted not letting her choke.
Martin, who had been angry even before he arrived, seemed to realize he’d misunderstood something.
“What do you mean? …Doctor Clinton, is that true?”
“Yes, the Madam saved her,” Clinton confirmed.
“…Are you sure?”
“She acted quickly despite the situation… though her wrist is quite swollen. I’ll leave an ointment for her.”
Martin’s eyes flickered in shock at the doctor’s words. The maids began whispering quietly, the atmosphere subtly siding with me.
In the original story, Jemma never interacted with the Cloud family, but now… something felt a little different.
When Erica finally went back to her own room, I let out a deep sigh.
That’s when I noticed someone was still here. The faint cool-water scent gave him away.
Martin Cloud.
He hadn’t left.
“Others might not notice, but I can’t be fooled,” he said.
His tone carried a strange hostility — not what you’d expect toward someone who’d just saved his sister.
Come to think of it… something’s off.
The way Erica looked at me earlier, and now Martin… I was starting to understand Jemma’s position in this household.
And I was certain of one more thing — there was no love between Martin and Jemma.
I closed the curtains firmly. Now it was just the two of us in the room.
“What’s your game?” Martin’s low voice made the air feel even heavier.
“I should be asking you that. How can you push someone this far?”
“You don’t like me or Erica.”
He said it without hesitation, as if it were obvious.
“Me?”
“You don’t even eat with us.”
“That’s because my meals are always brought to my room.”
“That was your request.”
His reply shut me up. By the time I’d possessed Jemma, the routine was already set — so the real Jemma must have asked for it.
But why?
Even if she had her reasons, surely she didn’t hate her own family… right?
I decided there was no point in making our relationship worse.
“I don’t dislike you or your sister.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Even though I’d meant it sincerely, he cut me off coldly.
Part of me was irritated, but part of me wondered — What kind of person was Jemma to make them distrust her this much?
“It doesn’t matter,” I said with a sigh. “We’re still talking about a human life. Even if you don’t like someone, saving them is the right thing to do.”
He seemed to think for a moment, studying my face closely. I didn’t look away — I had nothing to hide.
Finally, he said, “Some people don’t think it’s right. People like you.”
“No. I’m the kind of person who does.”
Something in his eyes shifted at my firm tone.
“They say you’ve changed… you really have. You’re nothing like the woman from a week ago.”
Fine, think that if you want, I thought. It was true anyway.
“Talking more won’t change your mind,” I said.
“But—”
“What now? I’m tired.”
He picked up the ointment from the dresser, turned it in his hand, then put it back down.
“Never mind. Rest well.”
“…?”
He left, and I applied the ointment myself, deep in thought.
There’s definitely something between Jemma and this family that never came up in the original.
In my plan, I was supposed to spend my days in my empty room, thinking of ways to escape the original plot.
So why… was I being watched?
Whenever I looked toward the half-open door, I caught a glimpse of long, shiny black hair.
It wasn’t hard to guess who it was — only Erica had hair like that.
I folded my newspaper loudly.
“Are you going to stand there all day?”
Caught, Erica strolled in with her hands behind her back.
“I was just passing by.”
“Then please keep passing by.”
Normally, she would have flipped her hair and left, but this time she stayed put, as if thinking.
“Do you have something to say?” I asked.
Apparently taking that as encouragement, she stepped forward.
“I’m not the type to stay in someone’s debt.”
“…And?”
“You’re coming shopping with me.”
I pointed to her, then to myself. “Me and you? Shopping?”
She nodded.
“It’s not like I want to, but it’s my principle. So, please cooperate.”
And with that, she left.
It was abrupt, but maybe if I went along, I could get the information I missed before… and maybe even change the story.
My wrist had fully healed.
Something’s different.
The morning felt different from usual, and even the maids’ gazes had changed. Most of all, Erica had approached me again — and even invited me shopping.
Did saving her change her?
If I hadn’t stepped in, she might have died… or maybe, as the “villainess,” the story would have forced her survival anyway.
No… she’d choked because of a question I asked her. Maybe the change started then. Or maybe it was when she came to eat with me—
[Sister-in-law, you’ve been sending the maids away lately?]
[It’s just more comfortable eating alone.]
Then why did I act like that?
[You really have changed. You’re nothing like you were a week ago.]
Of course I had changed — I wasn’t the original Jemma.
I smacked my palm against my knee.
“That’s it. It already started.”
The moment I possessed her, the story began to shift.
“Are you ready yet, Sister-in-law?”
Erica returned from changing clothes. Her red eyes looked prettier than ever.
“I think… I might be able to survive,” I said, my voice full of emotion.
Erica just stared at me blankly, clearly not understanding a word.
