The polished white marble of the Dallas foyer reflected the crystal chandelier overhead, but the air inside was thick with tension. Guests in tailored suits and silk evening gowns stood frozen around the curved double staircase.

Evelyn: Get your filthy hands off that banister right now.

Lily: I didn't mean to drop the glass, Evelyn. It slipped.

Evelyn: You call me Mrs. Vance, you ungrateful little brat. You ruined an antique runner imported from Milan.

Ten-year-old Lily pulled her worn blue dress tighter around her frail shoulders, trembling under the glare of her stepmother.

Lily: I can clean it up myself. Please don't lock me in the basement again.

Evelyn: You won't clean a single thing. You don't belong in this mansion, and you never will.

Evelyn smoothed down the front of her emerald designer gown, her diamond rings glinting under the recessed ceiling lights.

Evelyn: I gave you shelter out of Christian charity after your mother died in the county ward. And this is how you repay me?

Lily: My father said this was my home too.

Evelyn: Your father is five hundred miles away at an offshore drilling summit, sweetie. His private jet won't touch down until tomorrow morning.

Lily backed toward the entrance, but Evelyn closed the distance with sharp, deliberate heels clicking across the stone floor.

Lily: Please, Evelyn. Just let me wait in my room.

Evelyn: You don't have a room here anymore. Your bags are already in the trunk of the town car outside.

Lily: What? Where are you taking me?

Evelyn: To a private boarding academy upstate that handles problem wards. No visitors. No phone calls.

Lily clutched a crumpled paper against her chest, her knuckles turning white with desperate fear.

Lily: But Daddy signed these papers before he left. He said no one can make me go away.

Evelyn lunged forward, her manicured hand snatching at the girl's collar with raw venom, completely unaware of the shadow looming beyond the heavy oak front doors.