Camilla walked into the grand dining hall, her head held high, posture exuding confidence. The chandeliers cast a golden glow on her polished appearance, her expensive dress flowing around her like liquid silk. She scanned the room slowly, as if she belonged there. But the truth was far from that.
At the table, Aneira's fingers curled around the stem of her wine glass, her gaze dropping slightly. She refused to react, to acknowledge the woman who had caused so much damage. Camilla's presence was meaningless to her now.
Sophia, on the other hand, stiffened. Her heart pounded hard against her ribcage. This wasn't the mother she had known. The woman who had once been worn down by years of struggle now stood there, looking refined and untouchable. The Camilla she remembered had been desperate, always scrambling for scraps. But now, dressed in a gown that screamed money, with her hair styled to perfection, she was unrecognizable.
