Martha held Daphne in her arms. She came closer and closer until she saw Ayanna, who was lying on the ground.

Her scream pierced the night sky.

"Gosh! What are you doing, Ms. Ayanna?

"What will happen to Daphne if you’re gone?"

…

Martha held Daphne in her arms. The baby was only a few months old, but she seemed to sense her mother's death and began to wail uncontrollably, her cries unceasing.

Fearing that it would leave an emotional scar on the baby, Martha covered the infant’s eyes, preventing her from seeing her mother's tragic state.

Ayanna was like a rose in full bloom against the dark of the night.

Downstairs, chaos reigned.

Before long, the police arrived, cordoning off the scene to prevent bystanders from contaminating it. Even Martha could only hold Daphne and watch her mistress from a distance.

Martha was capable, but there was nothing she could do now. After all, she was a stranger in this place with no one to turn to.

Wait a minute. There was Gwynn.

Suddenly, sh