The meal continued, though Amelia barely tasted a thing. She kept her focus on her plate, pretending not to notice the stolen glances Lilian threw Andrew’s way, as if silently urging him to reconsider Sophia.
By the time dinner ended, Amelia felt exhausted—not from the meal, but from the emotional toll of the evening.
She excused herself quietly, stepping out onto the grand balcony that overlooked the estate’s vast gardens. The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the suffocating tension inside.
A few minutes later, she heard footsteps behind her. She didn’t have to turn to know who it was.
Andrew.
She let out a slow breath before speaking. “Your mother seems very invested in your past.”
Andrew sighed, stepping beside her, his hands resting against the balcony railing
