The night air outside the hospital felt colder than before, a bitter wind that cut through silk and bone. Her jaw tightened seeing Susan, immaculate as ever, her silver hair swept into a perfect chignon, her expensive fur coat pristine despite the hour of the night. A perfectionist, for sure.
Susan was like a portrait with the matriarch look she’d stepped straight out of an old aristocratic painting — the kind that had no smile or expression on her face.
The older woman’s heels clicked hard against the pavement as she approached closer to Riana, her eyes already gleaming with fury. “So, it’s true. You went to that Gala tonight while your daughter was in a hospital bed fighting for her life.”
Dramatic. Her strength was known to exaggerate stories.
Riana inhaled slowly, forcing
