"You vicious woman! You dare attack a student? Do you call yourself a professor's wife with behavior like that?"
It was the first time I had seen Thomas lose control so completely. Even on our wedding day, he had remained composed, not shedding a single tear of joy.
"It's my fault." Hazel Fox's voice was small and trembling. "No matter how Mrs. Gilbert treats me, I should endure it. Teacher, please don't fight for my sake."
Her words seemed to snap Thomas out of his trance, but only to redirect his fury.
"No apology, is that it?"
He grabbed the clay pot from the table and upended it over me.
The broth looked lukewarm, but the temperature was searing. The moment the liquid coated the back of my hand, my skin screamed in protest, turning an angry red.
Thomas didn't even look at me. He scooped Hazel up in his arms, panic etched onto his features as he rushed toward the exit.
Before leaving, he threw a cold sentence over his shoulder:
"Since Hazel is hurt, you can taste what being scalded feels like, too."