- SERAPHINE
The air in the dining room was thick enough to choke on. Aiden had gone all out—candlelight, the good silver, and a bottle of wine that probably cost more than a mid-sized sedan. If I walked in off the street, I’d think it was just a nice Tuesday night with the family. But I knew better. This was a trial, and I was the one in the dock.
"Marielle, darling, you’re drifting again," Marielle said, her voice smooth as honey. She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. Her grip felt like a shackle. She was wearing a dress the color of a bruised plum, looking every bit the supportive best friend.
"Sorry," I mumbled, letting my gaze wander aimlessly toward the heavy velvet curtains. I kept my shoulders slumped, my movements slow and heavy, like I was moving through waist-deep
