The dining room had never felt so small.
The grand crystal chandelier threw sharp, polished light across the long mahogany table, illuminating the formal dinner spread my mother had spent all afternoon coordinating. The clinking of silver cutlery against fine china echoed like small gunshots against the high walls.
I sat near the middle of the table, clutching my wine glass so tightly the stem was practically bending. Every nerve in my body was stretched to a violent breaking point.
Sitting directly across from me was Elena.
She wore a simple, elegant navy dress, her long brown hair pulled back into a soft velvet ribbon. Every time she reached for her water glass, every time she tilted her head to smile, every time the candlelight caught her dark brown eyes—it was Ella. The exact s
