I returned to the Anderson Mansion, my mind too drained to put on a facade. The moment I entered my room, however, my exhaustion was replaced by tension.
A figure sat on my bed, legs crossed, her long manicured fingers resting lightly on my sheets. My jaw clenched. Adeline. She sat there as if the room belonged to her. And if there’s one thing I despise, it’s people who act like they own what is mine.
“Mother,” I greeted, forcing my voice to remain neutral.
“You’re late today. I was worried,” she said, her insincere smile sharp, her cunning eyes glinting in the dimly lit room.
A flicker of memory flashed through my mind, freezing me in place for a moment. A night from years ago. The helplessness. But I reminded myself—I am not defenseless anymore. If she tried anything now, I would mak
