Serena finally understood. Everything she did now was to save herself and her mother. She had to do exactly what her brother said.


    In the span of a few hours, the once-pampered heiress had been forced to grow up. Before walking into thisb, she had been living in a fairytale. Now, she was trapped in a harsh reality she couldn''t escape.


    She thought of all the times she had taunted Eleanor, mocked her, and treated her with contempt. She remembered the dismissive, nasty things she had said when Eleanor had kindly suggested she get a check-up. Eleanor could have ignored her, could have let the disease progress, but instead, she had warned her brother, effectively saving her.


    To be repaid for cruelty with such kindness-and from Eleanor, of all people-felt like a p across the face. A hard one. The shame burned. For the first time, Serena saw her own behavior for what it was: petty, foolish, and wrong.


    In the office, Dr. Smith ended his call. "Ms. Sutton''s efficiency is remarkable," he toldn. "The questions she raised address the exact critical points we need to ovee."


    A sh of pride for Eleanor crossedn''s eyes, mingled with a deeper, carefully suppressed emotion. It looked almost like love.


    It was two days after New Year''s, and while the city outside was still celebrating, the cold, sterileb felt like a world away. Serena hugged herself, feeling a chill deep in her bones.


    A short timeter,n took her home.


    At Goodwin Manor, Eleanor had already arrived to pick up her daughter, but Evelyn was having too much fun to leave. Not wanting to be rude, Eleanor stayed for a cup of tea and chatted with Magdalen. Gina looked even thinner than before; the once-vibrant socialite now had hollows in her cheeks. Eleanor found her


    attitude toward the older woman softening.


    Just then, they heard a car pull into the garage.


    "That must ben and Serena," Magdalen said.


    Eleanor set down her teacup. "Grandma, it''s gettingte. I should take Evelyn home now."


    "You won''t stay a little longer?" Magdalen asked, rising from her seat.


    "I can''t, I stilt have some work to do," Eleanor said, using her usual excuse. an effective one; no one@ould


    It we


    argue with work that involved saving lives.


    Evelyn, having yed to her heart''s content, obediently took her mother''s hand.


    As they reached the front door, they came face-to-face withn and Serena.


    Serena was pale and looked dazed.


    When she looked up and saw Eleanor, she froze. An


    vel


    unprecedented wave of shame


    washed over her, and she


    instinctively dropped her gaze,


    wishing the floor would swallow her whole.


    "Daddy! Auntie!" Evelyn chirped happily.


    "Yes, it''s time to get Evelyn home," Eleanor replied evenly. She turned to her daughter. "Evelyn, let''s go."


    "Okay," the little girl said, sliding out of her father''s arms and taking her mother''s hand again.


    Eleanor didn''t spare Serena a single nce as she led her daughter away.


    Serena stared after them, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to say something, but her lifelong pride kept her silent.


    Yet, as she watched Eleanor''s retreating figure, the disdain and mockery that had once filled her eyes were gone.