Flora’s Guide to a Second Chance at Love and Life novel Chapter 1908

“Why go to the hospital? I’ve already called the family doctor. Sit down, let me get a good look at you. Honestly, what kind of mess have you gotten yourself into to end up like this?”

As she spoke, her eyes flicked toward Jane—barely hiding the accusation. She might as well have said it out loud: Jane must have sent someone to chop off Carson’s finger.

Jane didn’t flinch. Her attitude was always bold and upfront, never one to hide. “What’s with that look? Listen, if I really wanted to do something, Carson wouldn’t have come back at all. Trust me.”

Jane never feared anyone—except Fiona.

Mrs. Kidd’s lips pressed together as Carson’s mother jumped in, her voice sharp and defensive. “You hear that? What kind of thing is that to say? We’re family, but all she ever does is wish us dead. I wouldn’t be surprised if she really did have something to do with Carson’s hand. She thinks just because we’re alone, we’re easy to bully.”

No matter what she did, Carson’s mother had never been accepted by Mrs. Kidd. She’d given the Kidd family a son, even been introduced to the family elders by Jane’s father, but she was never allowed to call Mrs. Kidd “Mom.”

When she first married in, she’d tried, but Mrs. Kidd shut it down fast—no morning greetings, not even allowed inside the family chapel. At best, she could kneel outside with the distant relatives. Everyone noticed, and plenty resented it.

Everyone knows: no big family ever truly welcomes the mistress. That’s just the way things are.

“Enough.” Mrs. Kidd’s gaze was icy. “I’ve watched Jane grow up. I know exactly what kind of person she is—better than you ever could.”

She turned to Carson, eyeing his injured hand. One look and she could tell—a sharp blade, a clean cut.

Jane’s face instantly brightened—she knew it was Fiona. She quickly checked the fries on the coffee table; still warm. Perfect. Fiona could have them while they were fresh.

Fiona walked in, graceful as ever, following the housekeeper.

“Ms. Fiona, this way please. Our Miss made it clear you should be welcomed with your favorite rose.” The housekeeper offered Fiona a rose, still dewy from the morning. “Ms. Fiona, this one was picked just for you.”

“Thank you.”

Fiona took the rose, brought it to her nose, and breathed in. It smelled wonderful.