Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
The grand hall remained frozen after Isabelle's words.
"I was trying to keep you alive."
Chanel stared at her mother as though seeing a ghost for the first time.
Because in many ways she was.
Nine years.
Nine years believing this woman was dead.
Nine years mourning her.
Nine years asking questions nobody would answer.
And now she stood here.
Alive.
Elegant.
Real.
Camille watched the scene unfold quietly.
The anger in Chanel's eyes was impossible to miss.
But beneath it
there was hurt.
Far more hurt than anger.
"Alive from what?" Chanel finally asked.
Her voice shook despite her efforts.
"What exactly was so dangerous that you let your own daughter believe you were dead?"
Silence.
The mansion felt impossibly still.
Isabelle looked at her daughter for several long seconds.
Then she answered.
"Your father."
The words landed heavily.
Chanel froze.
Everyone did.
"What?"
Isabelle's expression hardened.
