He could hardly believe what he was seeing. How dare she bathe his son in the kitchen sink, as if his home were some common house without the luxuries he could easily afford? Marcus stormed into the kitchen, his face a mask of anger.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Marcus’s voice thundered, reverberating off the pristine walls. Emily looked up, startled by the intrusion, her gentle expression giving way to confusion.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she stammered. “I thought this would be more comfortable for him. The water temperature is just right here, and he seems to enjoy it.”
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