Meanwhile, Joan was still bobbing in the freezing water, choking, dragging herself toward the edge inch by painful inch.
In the end, she pulled herself out alone—fingers scraping against the rocks, clothes plastered to her body, water streaming down her face.
Janet trembled in Rhys's arms, eyes brimming with tears.
"It's all my fault... I made Miss Henson angry." Her voice hitched. "She didn't mean to push me in."
Rhys's head snapped up. He glared at Joan, fury twisting his features.
"Joan! Have you lost your mind? If you have a problem, take it up with me—what kind of coward shoves Janet into the water?"
Joan, still coughing violently, rolled her eyes.
With Rhys as her audience, Janet's performance shifted into high gear.
Tears spilled down her cheeks like a broken strand of pearls. Her voice quavered.
"I shouldn't have hoped for the impossible. I only wanted to beg Miss Henson not to tear us apart!"
"But I've given up now." She gazed up at Rhys, the picture of tragic resignation. "Mr. Gilbert, I come from nothing. I'm not worthy of you. We should end this."
"All I ask is that Miss Henson shows mercy... and lets me go."