“Mrs. Rosemary… please, just eat a little.”

Mila set a steaming bowl of soup on the worktable. But Rosemary only stared blankly, her eyes swollen, her face pale. The once steady hands that crafted masterpieces now trembled helplessly.

“I’m not hungry, Mila,” she whispered. “Everything would taste bitter anyway.”

Mila clenched her jaw, then sat beside her. “You can’t go on like this. If you collapse, the people spreading those lies will truly win.”

Rosemary turned her head, her glassy eyes glistening with tears. “They’ve already won, Mila. Look at the news, look at the comments. Everyone believes I’m ambitious, power-hungry, even plotting against Adrian. Everything I worked for is...