The Unlucky Turn by Mark Twain 329

Milford didn’t look at her again. He turned and walked to the door, leaving behind one cold piece of advice. “I’ve said what I needed to say. You’re on

your own.”

The moment the door clicked shut, Tamara grabbed a vase from the nightstand and smashed it against the wall.

‘Crash!”

The sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the room, mirroring the complete collapse of her disguise.

Finally, Tamara was alone. She slumped onto the floor, her fingers

digging claw-like into the carpet. Currently, the silence was terrifying. The only sound was her rapid, ragged breathing echoing in the empty room.

t was over. It was all over!

Everything she had meticulously planned… The image she had painstakingly built… The position of “Mrs. Milford Sherwood” she had ought so hard to secure… ruined! Now, Milford wanted a divorce. Fitch and Gloria loathed her. Even the Sloans might not protect her now.

Tamara shook violently. A panic like she had never felt before spread from the depths of her heart, wrapping around it like a cold, venomous snake. She curled up on the floor, sobbing helplessly.

Meanwhile, Gloria’s face remained dark as she left the guest wing. Worried that Tamara would cause more trouble for the family, she paused for a moment before summoning the butler. Her voice was stern. “Send a few people to ‘attend’ to Tamara at her door. Don’t let her take a single step out of that room for the time being.”

The butler understood immediately. It was house arrest. He bowed his head. “Yes, Ma’am. I understand.”

With Gloria’s order given, two imposing maids were quickly stationed outside Tamara’s door. They stood guard, refusing to leave their post.

Inside, Tamara heard the commotion and rushed to the door, yanking it

open.

She was greeted by the sight of two stern-faced maids. They were tall and broad-shouldered, their limbs clearly packing muscle.

Seeing Tamara attempt to leave, one of the maids blocked her path, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Ms. Sloan, please go back to your room and rest. Mrs. Sherwood has ordered that you remain inside for the time being. If you need anything, feel free to ask us, and we will do our best to accommodate you.”

Tamara’s face turned livid. The words sounded polite, but the meaning was clear: she was a prisoner.

Realizing this, panic set in.

“What is the meaning of this? I am the daughter-in-law of this house! You dare stop me?”

The maid was unmoved. “These are Mrs. Sherwood’s orders.”

Tamara was just a new bride, and she had already offended the entire Sherwood family. Gloria confining her to her room was actually a mercy; in any other household, she might have been kicked out onto the street immediately.

Tamara’s chest heaved, her nails digging into her palms. She slammed the door shut, as if the violence of the action could vent her humiliation and rage.

She paced for a moment before snatching up her phone. Her hands trembled as she dialed Josiah.

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