The crowd buzzed around us, voices overlapping, sharp gasps cutting through the air. It felt unreal, like standing inside a live feed where nothing could be edited out. No privacy. No escape. Just truth laid bare for everyone to see.
Of course, it couldn't end there.
Mrs. Morrigan pushed her way forward, chin lifted, eyes bright with judgment. I'd crossed paths with her more than once before. Her daughter had once tried to secure a permanent place beside the Hales, and that history made Mrs. Morrigan think she still had a claim here.
When Camilla had failed to be accepted, the Morrigans had tried to buy their way out of the humiliation, throwing money at the problem just to cut ties clean. Pride like that bruised easily.
Unlike her husband, who only cared about rank and numbers, Mrs. Morrigan enjoyed using her voice. And tonight, she smelled blood.
