In the room, Beatrice Hargrave lay on the bed, gazing at the night outside the window, lost in thought.
The sound of high heels echoed in the hallway outside her room. Hannah Hargrave stopped at her door, entered without knocking, and casually turned on the chandelier.
Beatrice turned her head, still lying on the bed, watching Hannah walk in step by step without speaking.
"So, how's the bed? Comfortable?" Hannah stood at the bedside, crossed her arms, and sneered with an arrogant tilt at the corners of her lips.
Beatrice knew she wasn't really concerned for her. Turning over to prop her head with her hand, she asked nonchalantly, "If there's something you want to talk about, just say it. I want to rest."
"Actually, it's nothing much," Hannah kept her arms crossed and chin raised, her eyebrows arched arrogantly. "I just came by to remind you, if you want to live comfortably, you'd better behave yourself. If you piss off my mom, there will be consequences for you!"
