Natalie~
I remember those two months like a endless nightmare, a fog of worry that clung to every corner of the palace, suffocating us all. It started the day Vincent rejected Katrina and then ran away. From that moment, my daughter—my fierce, independent Katrina—shut down. She stopped eating, her once-vibrant reddish-blonde hair hanging limp and unkempt. She'd push away trays of food with a weak shake of her head, her voice barely a murmur: "I'm not hungry, Mom." But I knew it was more than that; it was her heart starving, her spirit dimming under the weight of loss.
