Chapter 8 Seeking For Help

• Henry was as excited as if he had just made a groundbreaking discovery.
• With his hand still around Mabel's waist, he deliberately squeezed the fabric under his palm. He felt something strange, and Henry, never one for chivalry, slipped his fingers under the hem of Mabel's shirt, his hand quickly sliding inside. The moment his fingers touched her skin, he froze in shock.
• “What are you doing?”
• Mabel struggled to push Henry away. Henry, now utterly bewildered, stared at her. “Your waist...” He didn't know what to say. Was that even a normal woman's waist?
• Henry had always considered himself a ladies' man. He had dated at least a hundred women, if not a thousand, including international models and celebrities. But Mabel's waist was even thinner than the slimmest woman he'd ever been with. So thin, in fact, that he could nearly encircle it with just one hand!
• “You...” He tried to speak several times, wanting to say, “So that's why you're wearing so many clothes in this heat.” But when he looked into the eyes of this stranger in front of him—eyes that clearly showed she was in pain, yet trying to act indifferent, eyes that seemed to want to accuse him but also looked humble—he found himself unable to speak.
• Years later, Henry still couldn't forget the look in Mabel's eyes at that moment. He still didn't understand how one person's gaze could be both assertive and humble at the same time, mixing two completely opposite emotions together.
• What kind of experience could make a person carry such contradictory traits?
• Mabel pushed Henry away with all her might and ran. Alas, she couldn't run fast, and after only a few steps, she tripped and fell but she didn't care. She struggled to her feet, using the wall for support, trying to get as far away from Henry as possible.
• Her mind was in turmoil. It was like her darkest secret had just been exposed.
• After getting out of prison, all she wanted was a peaceful life, a simple life where she could eat enough, have a place to sleep, and save a little money. She wanted to visit Serenity Lake, where she could finally see the clear and brilliant blue sky, something she had never seen from the confines of a prison.
• She could no longer withstand any turmoil.
• Henry wanted to help her, but every time he sped up, she acted as if a ghost was chasing her, dragging herself along the wall, looking utterly miserable.
• Resigned, Henry reduced his speed.
• Upon reaching Room 606, Mabel knocked on the door before entering.
• The moment she entered, she sensed the strange atmosphere in the room. In the dim lighting, several guests sat on the sofa, each accompanied by a female escort.
• Standing in front of the crystal table was a girl who looked pure and innocent.
• Mabel recognized her. It was Miranda Quincy, a new server who shared the same dorm as her and was a student at Seacastle University.
• “Mabel...” Miranda cried out pitifully, startling Mabel and making her tense up immediately.
• Seven or eight pairs of eyes in the room suddenly shifted toward Mabel. Bracing herself, she said, “I'm the janitor from downstairs who was called up to clean the room.” She spoke in her raspy voice.
• Several people in the room frowned with displeasure.
• Mabel had worked at Club Royale for three months and knew to speak less and do more. She was just a janitor. Though some might be dissatisfied with her voice, no one would really target her for it. However, Miranda's situation was different. Mabel didn't know the full story, and interfering could lead to bigger trouble.
• Keeping her head down, she avoided Miranda and headed toward the washroom in the VIP room. The room came with a fully equipped washroom, and all the cleaning supplies were neatly stored in a dedicated cabinet, ensuring that they wouldn't affect the washroom's aesthetics.
• Mabel grabbed a mop with one hand and a bucket with the other before stepping out.
• She kept her head down and focused on cleaning, completely ignoring the pleading glances Miranda kept throwing her way.
• Three years in prison had taught Mabel not to act recklessly and to remember her place. Otherwise, a mere flick of someone's finger could make her life a living hell.
• She wasn't Miranda. Miranda, though poor, still had her parents and was a student at Seacastle University. Mabel, however, was nothing but an ex-convict.
• She was insignificant, incapable of withstanding even the slightest storm, much less offer aid to anyone.
• “If you sing this song, you can leave,” one of the men said to Miranda.
• Mabel quietly raised her head, watching as Miranda bit her lip as if she had suffered the greatest humiliation. “I won't...”
• Mabel's grip on the mop faltered, and the mop accidentally swiped across Miranda's shoe. Startled, Miranda forgot what she had been about to say and looked over at Mabel.
• “I'm sorry, I've soiled your shoe,” Mabel said, raising her gaze.
• This seemingly innocent little incident attracted the attention of several men in the room.
• Mabel then heard Miranda angrily retort, “I'm not a female escort or a hostess! I won't sing! I'm just a server, here to serve drinks!”
• At that moment, Mabel regretted everything. There were some people you could help, and others you couldn't.