Grace Gray's friend, who had been speaking the harshest, tugged at Grace's sleeve and pointed at Hope Williams, "Grace, this is... a crafty old woman..."
That girl quickly covered her mouth.
The woman standing before them was dressed in a beige coat paired with a light brown knitted suit, her delicate features without a hint of makeup, yet simply standing there exuding an air of aloof nobility.
Just a slow sweep of those indifferent eyes over her had made her feel an overwhelming sense of oppression.
Recalling what she had just said, that she wasn't even pretty, just an old woman nearing thirty.
The girl immediately bowed her head severely, realizing this woman was not just beautiful but also had flawlessly pale skin that couldn't possibly be associated with an old woman.
Wyatt Lewis swept a casual glance at Grace Gray and chuckled softly, then turned to follow Hope Williams.
Grace Gray was trembling all over, Wyatt's chuckles full of ridicule.
