It wasn't a sound of joy—it was a sound laced with a dark sense of satisfaction. She felt a little evil right now, almost gleeful at the sight of the receptionist brought so low. Sophie's gaze flicked from the woman kneeling before them to Dain, who remained stoic, offering no sign of empathy. She knew this wasn't over yet. The receptionist had no idea what she was about to face, and Sophie relished in the moment. It was a strange feeling, but it felt like justice—just a little taste of it, at least.
The receptionist's hands continued to clasp together in front of her, nervously rubbing them against one another in a silent, subconscious gesture. Her body language was pleading, but she had no voice to make her case. She wasn't saying a word, but the desperation was evident in every inch of her. She was avoiding looking Dain directly in the eye, clearly too ashamed to face him.
