Every gaze in the banquet hall fell upon Serene, filled with shock, surprise, and contemplation.
Their attention was drawn to her drug addiction attack, they didn't pay attention to what she was saying.
"You all won't save me, you all won't save me, I hate you..." Serene's face and neck were scratched and bleeding, and eventually, as if scratching couldn't ease her itch, she lay on the ground rolling, trying to alleviate the itch that penetrated her bones through friction.
The scene was rather gruesome.
Owen protected Amelia as they took a few steps back, his broad figure shielding her from the view, whether intentionally or not.
He was worried she might be frightened.
Amelia focused on the fabric of Owen's dark grey suit. His back was like a wall—so stable and so reassuring.
Unable to see beyond this 'wall', with Serene's intermittent screams, the guests' gasps, and their horrified looks, Amelia could imagine the wretchedness of the scene.
