It wasn't home.
Home was supposed to be a place of comfort, of security.
But to Bella, this place was a reminder of everything she didn't have, everything she needed to escape from.
She pushed open the door and stepped inside, greeted by the sight of an exceptionally beautiful woman sitting at the dining table. Her mother.
She was breathtaking—an older, more refined version of Bella herself.
Blonde, curvaceous, and effortlessly elegant, despite the cheap surroundings they lived in.
Time had barely touched her, but her sharp, knowing eyes held a depth of experience that Bella had always admired—and feared.
Her mother glanced up, immediately noticing the look on Bella's face.
"Something on your mind?" she asked, setting down the cup of tea she had been sipping.
Bella hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward, her voice firm but laced with an excitement she couldn't quite contain.
"Mom," she said, her lips curling into a slow smile. "I think I found the one."
