Meeting with her
Emily
What I saw after climbing a few steps made me stop in my tracks.
Mrs. Laurel Hernandez.
The woman seated in Seth’s living room was every bit as elegant and composed as the media had always painted her to be. Her posture was straight, one leg crossed over the other, a teacup resting gracefully in her hand as though she had all the time in the world. Her hair was perfectly styled, not a strand out of place, and the deep emerald dress she wore sat on her frame with effortless class.
Even from where I stood, there was no mistaking her.
She looked exactly like the kind of woman who could smile at you while still make you feel as though you were standing in the wrong place.
My fingers tightened around the stair rail.
What was she doing here?
Oh Emily, this is her
