I was surprised to see my mother appearing before us all today. Her entrance was as dramatic as ever, with a crisp navy suit and an aura that screamed authority.
But what unsettled me more was the grim expression on her face. Mother rarely wore her emotions so plainly—it was usually a luxury for the rest of us mere mortals.
Standing awkwardly in the grand Alcove drawing room, Alvina seemed uncharacteristically uneasy.
A woman who could normally manipulate a conversation into submission now fidgeted with her pearl necklace like it was a set of prayer beads.
Her presence here was unusual enough, but the room's tension only spiked further when Marissa, my mother, addressed her.
"Alvina, what brings you here?" Mother asked, her tone clipped and sharp as a sword.
