Eloise
The questions were becoming too much. The press crowded closer, their microphones like weapons pointed at me, demanding answers I didn’t have. Jennifer’s voice rose above the cacophony, smooth and laced with fake sorrow.
“All I’ve ever wanted was to support Eloise,” she said, her crocodile tears shedding uncontrollably “We’re sisters, after all. But how do you reconcile with someone who hates you for no reason? And now… this?” She gestured toward her designs—my designs like they were some divine gift she’d crafted from her soul.
My chest tightened, I couldn’t breathe.
A client who had been eagerly discussing a purchase earlier suddenly turned away, whispering to her companion. Their eyes darted toward me, judgment heavy in their expressions.
It was Jennifer’s words, It was al
