Deirdre’s lips were trembling, and she stretched out her hand with great effort. “Mother, can I… touch your hands?”

She knew Ophelia’s hands. They were a pair of old hands covered in calluses that felt very different even at a very young age, especially in some spots.

She had not felt out Ophelia’s hands seriously before this but she had grown suspicious after Charlene’s remarks.

Maeve’s heart was racing. “What’s going on? What’s going on with you… Deirdre?”

“I’m fine…” Deirdre took a deep breath and cracked a fake smile with great difficulty. “I used to hold your hand frequently in the past and I missed doing that all of a sudden. I yearned for the feeling of you holding my hand when you walked me home after school…”

“I see.” Maeve smiled, but her heart was still on guard. She had figured out that Deirdre must have noticed something. At the same time that a feeling of uneasiness grew in her, she had no choice but to stretch out her hand.

“Alright, I shall hold my little Deird