Pearl Landon was just over thirty this year, a bit older than the Winton sisters, yet time had already left its marks on her face. Unlike Serena Winton—divorced, yet still maintained like a young girl, draped in jewels and radiance.
Back then Pearl cared most about saving face, famed for both talent and beauty. Serena glanced at the slightly dowdy clothes on her, raised a brow and said coolly, "Pearl, I didn't expect you to be doing this poorly now."
Serena's words were already considered tactful. Pearl understood very well: beautiful women are delicate flowers, needing endless money and affection to be carefully tended. Otherwise they end up like her, withering and rotting in a swamp-like marriage and family. She could barely even remember what she used to look like.
