(Trish’s POV)
The morning of the first Friday arrived not with a bang, but with a suffocating, gray silence. It was the day I had traded my pride for, begged Miss Britney for, and spent every waking second dreading. The day the last physical evidence of my mother’s existence would be lowered into the unforgiving earth of Mthland City.
I sat on the edge of my bed in the Roland mansion, staring at the black dress Miss Britney had got for me. It hanged there on the closet door. It looked like a shadow waiting to swallow me whole.
My hands were shaking so violently I had to sit on them to make them stop. In Canada, we were poor, but we had the sun. Here, in this sprawling house of marble and secrets, the air felt like it was made of lead.
A soft knock sounded at the door. I expected Miss
