The performance 🤯
Serena's POV The estate smelled like her childhood. Not comfort. Not safety. The particular scent of wealth that had always made her throat tighten — lemon polish, fresh flowers, the underlying cold of marble that never warmed. Serena stood at the window of the guest room Richard had assigned her, looking down at the gardens Adrian's mother had designed, and felt the architecture close around her like a fist. She had been back for three days. Three days of smiles, of deference, of the particular performance of a daughter-in-law restored to favor. Three days of dinners where Richard discussed business and she nodded at the appropriate moments, of mornings where she selected outfits he would approve of, of evenings where she retired early and lay awake listening for footsteps outside her
- Writer
