Serena wore a black and white checkered knee-length skirt with a matching blazer. She paired it with her red stiletto heels and pearl earrings that danced lightly against her neck.

Her hair was styled in a loose bun, with two soft curls framing her face. Her makeup was light—barely there, yet effortlessly elegant.

Standing before the towering Brighton building, Serena felt a wave of nervousness wash over her. The place she once ruled now felt strangely foreign. She had walked through these glass doors countless times before, confident and collected, but this time felt different. This time, she was walking back as the woman who had fallen and risen again....