Although it took almost all of Rosalie's effort to suppress the raging hatred in her voice, her soft voice was still imbued with a vicious aura, an edge. By then, Dorothy had completely sobered up, and she immediately let go of Credence's arm. She looked down at herself and realized that she was in an absolutely sorry, awkward state.

Her body was wet while her hair was still trickling with water. The blue dress tightly clung to her body like second skin, accentuating her curves.

Credence stood where he was, with no expression on his face. He did not answer Rosalie's question, and his face and breaths were filled with...