Claire’s POV
Just as Amelia was about to take the glass, her fingers brushing the sides, the girls Amy and Stacy, ran by, bumping into Amelia, who, in losing her balance, knocked the poisoned glass of champagne straight off of the tray. It fell down to the hard floors, glass smashing against the marble, poisoned liquid spilling every which way.
The girls immediately froze, their faces paling.
Amelia righted herself, just as Lillian came rushing over.
“Girls! What did I tell you about running in here?” Lillian demanded.
The girls lowered their heads. “Sorry, Grandma. Sorry, Mom.”
At the sound of glass shattering, a slew of servants rushed forward, mops and brooms in hand. This group was constantly waiting in the wings, ready to intervene just on occasions like these. They had already
