Everyone was anxious, yet they couldn't rush her, so they had to sit down and listen to her continue.
"I have read Mr. Hawthorne's fortune. It's a typical long life of wealth and nobility. Even if his bed's direction clashed with the prized land, it shouldn't have made him ill to such a severe degree without a discernible cause."
Rosie Rowan frowned, her eyes shifting with obvious discomfort as she questioned urgently, "Why should we believe what you've predicted?"
Tiana Thorne leaned lazily back into the sofa, stretching briefly, then picked up a teacup from the coffee table, slowly caressing it, her thumb coming to rest on the clasp.
"This should be Mr. Hawthorne's usual teacup."
Upon hearing this, the Hawthorne family was taken aback, their eyes filled with an intense heat.
