But Maria didn't stop walking. The silence unsettled her, but something kept pushing her forward—curiosity, pride, maybe even fear. Her heels echoed against the polished tiles as she climbed the short steps to the front door of the mansion.
At that moment She raised her hand, ready to knock—when the door creaked open on its own.
And there she was, Raymond's mother the same old lady they came with him that day.
Maria's hand froze mid-air, her eyes widening as they landed on the woman standing before her.
It wasn't the same woman she remembered seeing that day in public—the one dressed plainly, head bowed, quiet, and seemingly out of place.
This woman? She stood tall. Graceful. Proud.
Her silver-streaked hair was neatly styled, her dress elegant, her makeup subtle but perfect. The soft gold jewelry around her neck shimmered, not loud—but rich. Effortlessly rich.
Seeing all of that Maria blinked, mouth slightly open. Her thoughts stuttered. She looks like royalty.
