“Mrs. Johnston, please come with me," Wynter said.

Camila nodded.

She was led to the reception room.

Isaac, Marlowe, and her father were all there.

Marlowe's face was red.

Additionally, there was a handprint on her cheek.

Camila glanced at her and wondered if she wanted to set her up by slapping herself.

She frowned. How could Marlowe be so cruel to herself?

She really hurt herself just so she could put Camila in a bad light.

“Dad, it was her who slapped me!" Marlowe cried as she tugged at Leland's sleeve.

"What evidence do you have that I hit you?" Camila asked.

“What more do I have to show? Isn't the evidence already on my face?" Marlowe refuted.

Camila snorted at how absurd she sounded.

“If you're going to be like this, then let me also say that it's your fault that my arm is like this.

She pulled her sleeves up, revealing the scratches she obtained when she was trapped in the hole.

"You have no proof that I slapped you, but I have proof that you caused me harm. Everyone knows I fell and acquired these scratches because of you. I should ask you for an explanation as to why you did that." Marlowe gaped at her in shock.

“You're unreasonable!"

Leland scowled. It looked like he had underestimated Camila.

He did not expect her to be so witty.

Still, he had to put on a brave front for the sake of her daughter.

“She didn't mean to push you into the hole. You, on the other hand, slapped her with the intention of hurting her. My daughter has never been treated Like this before. You should apologize to her."

Isaac glanced at Camila.

He knew she was smart and had a glib tongue.

Sure enough, her wit did not disappoint him.

He did not find anything particularly cutting about Camila's words. In fact, the current situation entertained him.