SOFIA'S POV
People always assume that power is loud — that it stomps into a room, demands attention, shouts down anyone in its way. But real power, I’ve learned, whispers. It wears perfume and silk dresses, and it smiles so sweetly no one sees the knife until it’s pressed to the skin.
I instinctively let out a small laugh at something Vee had just said over the phone, my hand rising to cover my mouth even though no one else was around to hear. It was a habit I’d picked up during my brief stay in Korea — small gestures that made me look more refined, more delicate. People underestimated a woman who giggled behind her hand. I found it useful.
“That’s the truth, girl,” Vee continued, her voice crisp with amusement. “They’re all wannabes. Always putting on some holy act for everyone, like t
