For a split second, the air around us felt frozen.
It was the kind of stillness that pressed against my ears.
Mrs. Hariston's elegant composure cracked just enough for me to notice.
Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something—but instead, she turned her gaze away from me. She deliberately avoided my eyes.
Ingrid, on the other hand, recovered immediately.
Her widened eyes narrowed almost instantly. A slow, sarcastic smile curved her lips as she looked me up and down. From my neatly tied hair, to the plain staff uniform I was wearing, all the way down to my flat shoes.
It wasn't a glance. It was the kind meant to humiliate.
"Well," she said lightly, tilting her head. "If it isn't you again."
Her tone was sweet, almost friendly—but the venom underneath it was unmistakable.
I kept my posture straight, my hands folded neatly in front of me like any other staff member would. Inside, my pulse thudded hard against my ribs.
