"Carie?!"
A gaunt, sallow-skinned middle-aged woman spotted the little girl in Camilla's arms.
Though visibly relieved, her eyes burned with fury as she strode forward.
"How could you wander off like this?!
Your father and I have been worried sick looking for you!"
Behind her trailed a dark-faced man in a gray tunic, his face deeply lined.
When his gaze landed on Camilla, a lecherous glint flickered in his eyes—quickly masked by feigned concern.
Were these the child's parents?
Doubt flashed in Camilla's eyes.
If nothing else, there wasn't the slightest resemblance between them and the girl.
"Come on, let's go home with Mommy!"
The woman shot Camilla a hostile glare and grabbed the girl's arm, trying to wrench her away.
The child trembled, clinging desperately to Camilla's neck, shaking her head in mute terror.
"Let's go."
Something sharp flickered in Camilla's beautiful eyes as she decisively pushed the woman's hand away.
