As the door to the interrogation room opened, the sterile, fluorescent light caught the shimmer of a pale, lotus-pink silk dress. Despite the grim surroundings of the Lakeport Development Authority, Serena Frost carried herself with a poise that felt entirely out of place in a detention wing. The dress was modest yet tailored, flowing over a figure that still held the graceful, rising curves of a woman in her prime. Her waist was so slender it seemed as though a man’s hands could span it, and though she had been stripped of her luxury watches and diamond jewelry, she retained an innate, aristocratic grace that no amount of administrative custody could diminish.
She was the widow of Chester Preston, and even in her silence, she looked like a queen in exile.
"Deputy Lead Ward, allow me to
