The Blackwood Mansion
The parlor was warm with late sunlight, the polished wood glowing, the air carrying the faint perfume of lilies. Sophia's heels tapped softly against the marble as she entered, each step measured, her face carefully composed.
Victoria stood near the window, back straight, but when she turned and saw her daughter, her expression wavered.
Sophia let her eyes brim, her voice catch in her throat. "Mom… I'm so sorry." She crossed the room slowly, shoulders drawn inward, as if the weight of her own shame pulled her down.
"I was awful... screaming at you, at Alex. I lost control. I'll apologize to him too, if you'll let me. I just… I want to be better. A better daughter. A better person."
Her mother's face crumpled. The sternness she wore so easily fell away, replaced by something soft, aching.
Victoria pulled Sophia into her arms, holding her tight. Her perfume was familiar, comforting, but it twisted inside Sophia like a knife.
