Jessica’s POV

The night feels suffocating. The chandeliers cast their golden glow over the grand hall, laughter and chatter filling the air, but I hear none of it. I see none of it. The people around me are dressed in opulence, their masked faces barely hiding the judgment in their eyes.

I force a smile as I sip my champagne, but I can still feel their whispers slicing through me like knives. She’s not Flora. She doesn’t belong here. Stanley made a mistake.

No matter how much I tell myself it doesn’t matter, that they’ll all come around eventually, it still stings. They don’t know me. They don’t know what...