“Why did you invite me to such a luxurious party, Sandra?” Evelyn whispered as she sipped from her crystal glass, her gaze sweeping across the chandelier-lit room filled with people in formal suits.

Sandra smiled, standing gracefully beside her.

“Because you need to look strong. The media has painted you as a victim for too long. It’s time for you to stand tall—with your head held high.”

Evelyn sighed and straightened her back. Her black dress was simple but elegant, her hair pinned neatly. She had done her best to look presentable tonight.

But her heart remained restless.

“Relax. It’s a charity gala, not World War III,” Sandra added with...