Ivy’s POV

“Hey, Mom,” I said, forcing a smile as I hugged her. It was stiff, awkward, like we were strangers rather than mother and daughter. I could feel the guilt bubbling up in my chest, the memory of my outburst still fresh. “You smell nice. New perfume?” We had planned this meeting for weeks, and the closer it came, the bigger my guilt grew.

“Oh, this? It’s lavender and vanilla. I thought it’d be relaxing for the spa,” she said, her voice light but her eyes avoiding mine. “You look… radiant, as always. Modeling treating you well?”

“Yeah, it’s good. Busy, but good. How’s the painting going? Last time...