~Jennie’s~

“Do not embarrass this family further, Ms. Streams.”

She says it like I’m the stain stitched onto their last white linen. I’m standing near the foyer archway, holding my phone and staring at the email I was meant to reply to—some campaign for working mothers in the tech sector—but now my fingers curl tighter. I lift my gaze slowly.

Mrs. Cuss’s doesn’t blink when she says it again, louder this time. “You will not attend another press event in trousers. That is not our image. Nor will you continue appearing in those...loud-colored ensembles. I’ve seen that hideous emerald blouse. It’s not First Lady material.”

My breath catches. But I...