Bella became aware of it slowly.
Not a scandal, there wasn’t one yet.
Not the confrontation—no accusations had been spoken.
It was subtler than that.
A shift in how people looked at her.
The first time she noticed, she was at a café near the Foundation offices, waiting for a client. Two women at the next table lowered their voices when she stood to order. One of them glanced at her, then away, then back again.
Bella told herself it was nothing.
New York thrived on coincidence.
The second time, it was harder to ignore.
She was leaving a meeting when a junior associate she barely knew smiled too brightly and said, “You must be very… impressive.”
The pause before the word landed wrong.
Bella thanked her politely and kept walking, pulse steady but alert.
By the third time, pattern
