The Conflict
Three months later, trouble arrived in Chanel.
Victoria—Ethan’s mother-in-law, Lily’s grandmother—swept in like a winter storm. She despised me instantly. To her, I was “the help,” a gold-digger exploiting grief.
“You’re a waitress,” she sneered one afternoon while Ethan was away. “You think you belong here? You’re temporary. A bandage. Once Lily is ‘better,’ he’ll discard you—like everything else that stops being useful.”
She was clever. She sowed doubt. She paraded “suitable” women through the house—heiresses, socialites, women fluent in etiquette.
I withdrew. I skipped dinners. Stayed in the guest house. Convinced myself she was right. I was just an employee.
Lily noticed.
She began to retreat. The silence crept back.
