Claire Sinclair was heartbroken. So heartbroken she couldn't pull herself out of it alone. Suddenly, she broke down into uncontrollable sobs.
She cried for who knows how long, still unable to overcome her grief. She was so lost in it that she didn't even notice the door open or someone enter.
Adrian Quincy strode to her side and gripped her shoulders. "You're not coming down for breakfast. What are you crying for?" he said coldly.
"You think so too, don't you? That I should have been the one to die, not my sister?"
"What nonsense are you talking about!" The man pulled her into a tight, angry embrace, his voice a low reprimand. "Your sister is already dead. Do you want her to climb out of her grave just to beat you up?"
"I..."
"Stop letting your mind run wild. Dry your tears and come downstairs with me for breakfast."
"Okay..." The girl sniffled and raised a hand to wipe her eyes, but the man was already doing it for her, acting on instinct.
