Chapter 36

"Lily! Tell me the truth! Is what your mother said true?" Mayor George Clark slammed his hand on the table, sending tea splashing across the floor. He couldn't believe his beloved daughter would do such a thing.

Lily Clark bit her lip hard, her fingers twisting the hem of her dress until her knuckles turned white.

Clara Clark grabbed a broom and swung it at her daughter. "I'll beat some sense into you, you shameless girl!" The broom whistled through the air, but Lily stood motionless, taking the blows without flinching.

"Enough!" George snatched the broom away. "Will beating her solve anything? We need to think of a solution!"

Clara collapsed onto the floor, wailing and slapping her thighs. "What sin have I committed? Our family's reputation is ruined! The whole village will laugh at us!" She suddenly lunged at Lily. "Your brothers haven't even married yet! How can they hold their heads high now?"

Lily finally looked up, tears streaming down her face. Regret flooded her—how could she have believed Harold Martin's sweet words? That scoundrel had promised to propose within days.

"Mom... it's... it's Harold from the Martin family..." Lily's voice was barely a whisper.

Clara sprang to her feet, ready to storm out, but George yanked her back. "Are you insane? If you cause a scene at the Martins', the whole village will know!"

"Then what do we do?" Clara's eyes burned with fury. "Let that bastard get away with this?"

George's face darkened. "Tomorrow, I'll take Lily to town to confront Harold. He must take responsibility!"

Lily trembled. What if Harold denied everything? She couldn't bear to think about it.

Just then, the courtyard gate rattled under furious pounding.

"Luna White! Get out here!" Clara White's shrill voice pierced through the door. "Everyone, come see this ungrateful granddaughter who dares to hit her own grandmother!"

Luna opened the door leisurely, feigning surprise. "Grandma, what's wrong?"

Clara seized Luna's arm, her nails digging deep into the flesh. "Don't play innocent! You're the one who knocked me out!" She turned to the gathered villagers. "Look at this bump on my head—this wretched girl did it!"

Luna pulled free, rubbing her bruised arm. "Grandma, if you accuse me of hitting you, where's the proof? You can't just slander me without evidence."

"You—!" Clara trembled with rage. "You stole the—" She choked back her words.

Luna raised an eyebrow. "Stole what? Do tell, Grandma."

Fiona Turner quickly intervened. "Luna, even if your grandmother misunderstood, you shouldn't—"

"Aunt Fiona," Luna smirked, "evidence matters. Just like if I said this injury on my head was from Grandma, would you believe me?"

Clara's face turned ashen. She knew Luna was guilty, but she had no proof. That damned acceptance letter was surely in Luna's hands by now.

The old woman's chest heaved violently before her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed stiffly to the ground.