~Tiara
ONE WEEK LATER
The smell of sizzling bacon filled the kitchen, mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I hummed softly as I flipped pancakes on the skillet, glancing over my shoulder at the maids bustling around me. Breakfast in the Hernandez household was a production, and even though I didn’t need to help, I found it grounding. There was something therapeutic about whisking eggs and chopping fruit, especially when I was surrounded by this circus of a family.
Just as I was placing a tray of freshly baked croissants on the counter, I heard a loud, shrill laugh echo from the sitting room. I didn’t have to guess who it was.
Celene.
She was pacing the hallway, her heels clicking dramatically against the marble floor. Her son, perched in a bassinet by the stairs, h
