“Well, well, well,” Mrs Benett said, clapping her hands slowly together.
Her voice dripped with sarcasm, each word intentionally pointed. “Looks like while the rest of us were losing our minds, you were just out having yourself a day, weren’t you?”
I didn’t respond.
I just straightened in my seat and looked at her, meeting her gaze without a single flinch.
She chuckled as she continued, her eyes trailing over me with a certain mocking delight.
“You look horrible. What happened to you? Don’t tell me you were crying the whole night. Is that it?”
She leaned in with a smirk. “Is that what you were doing?”
Still, I said nothing.
I knew I didn’t look like Monique Moffat, not the version of me people were used to. The woman who always had her makeup flawless, her outfits perfectly tailore
