The Thorne Heiress Unveiling Shadow novel Chapter 3

With the glass of water still in her hand, Evelyn walked up the sweeping staircase to pack. She took a slow sip, the coolness a welcome contrast to the burning animosity downstairs. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her rush.

Her room was at the far end of the hall, the smallest and sparest in the sprawling penthouse. It felt more like a servant's quarters than a daughter's bedroom, with its single window facing a brick wall and furniture that was a collection of mismatched cast-offs from other rooms. This room was a constant, physical reminder of her status. She was not family. She was an obligation.-

She pulled a single, worn canvas bag from the back of the closet. Her possessions were minimal—a few changes of simple, unbranded clothes, a handful of well-worn paperbacks, and a small, locked wooden box she kept hidden under a floorboard. The Suttons had never seen the point in wasting money on the substitute, and Evelyn had never asked for anything. Asking was a sign of weakness.

A figure appeared, leaning casually against the doorframe, bathed in the warm, golden light of the hallway that seemed to mock the dimness of her room. It was Aria, here to savor the final act of the play.

She dangled a bracelet from her fingers, its cheap, oversized crystals catching the light and scattering tacky rainbows on the wall.

"Here," Aria said, her voice laced with a triumphant smirk. "A parting gift. I wore this to a charity ball last year. Tiffany said it was stunning on me."

She held it out, letting it swing like a hypnotist's pendulum. Her eyes glittered with malice.

"It might fetch you a few months' rent in whatever slum you're heading to. Consider it a final act of charity from your big sister."

The words were sharp, designed to cut deep, to paint a pathetic picture of Evelyn's future.

"Are you sure it's worth as much as you think?"

The smile completely froze on Aria's face. The color drained from her cheeks, replaced by a blotchy, ugly red. In a single, precise strike, Evelyn had dismantled her pathetic offering, exposing the cheap pretension beneath her polished veneer. She hadn't just insulted the bracelet; she had insulted Aria's taste, her intelligence, her very identity as a connoisseur of luxury.

It wasn't an emotional outburst. It was a factual execution.

Evelyn turned back to her bag, zipped it shut, and walked toward the door. She passed the speechless, humiliated Aria without another glance, leaving her sputtering in the doorway of the sad little room that had never been a home.