Monday morning greeted me with a crisp chill in the air, the promise of Valentine’s Week sparking a mix of excitement and dread. Rose Day was always the start of this emotional rollercoaster. As I walked through the halls of Bloomfield Gymnasium, I couldn’t help but notice the sea of red and pink roses clutched in the hands of eager students, each one hoping to make an impression.
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As I reached my locker, I was met with an overwhelming sight—roses of every shade imaginable spilling out from within. My many admirers had certainly been busy. I couldn't help but smile at the sheer volume, yet it felt more like a burden than a blessing. The attention was flattering, but my mind was elsewhere.
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Making my way to class, I tried to focus on the day ahead. But when I reached my desk, my heart skipped a beat. There, lying amidst the typical red and pink blooms, was a single lavender rose. Lavender roses were super rare in Vhantrosa and carried a special meaning—love at first sight.
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My thoughts immediately drifted to Jae. We had shared moments in the garden at the mental health resort where these particular roses were native. The memory of those days was bittersweet, and I wondered if this rose was from him, if he remembered now.
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Throughout the day, I couldn’t get Jae off my mind. The lavender rose was a constant reminder of our connection, and it filled me with a mix of hope and uncertainty. I glanced at him from time to time, catching his eye briefly, but we exchanged no words. The silence was both comforting and maddening.
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In chemistry class, I caught Jae’s eye again. His gaze lingered on me for a moment longer than usual before he quickly looked away. My heart pounded, each glance fuelling the growing question: did he remember?
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At lunch, I sat with Stasi, trying to immerse myself in the light-hearted chatter around me. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. My brother Wiley’s recent distant behaviour and the intense atmosphere at home only added to my anxiety.
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"Kaye, you okay?" Stasi asked, her brow furrowed in concern.
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"Yeah, I’m fine," I replied, forcing a smile. "Just a lot on my mind."
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She nodded, understanding but not pressing further. I appreciated her giving me space, but I wished I could confide in her without the fear of exposing too much.
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As I walked to my next class, I saw Jae leaning against a locker, deep in conversation with one of his friends. He looked up, and for a moment, our eyes locked. My heart raced, and I quickly looked away, the weight of the lavender rose in my bag a constant reminder.
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The school day dragged on, filled with more glances and unspoken words between Jae and me. After I had finally finished practicing my skating routines, the sun was starting to set and I found myself lingering by my locker, holding the lavender rose. The soft petals of the rose brushed against my fingertips, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that it held more significance than just a simple Valentine’s gesture.
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As my driver dove me home, I let my mind wander, replaying the memories of the garden, the soft laughter, and the quiet conversations. The rose was a symbol of what once was and what could be again. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, I held onto that hope, ready to face whatever the week would bring.
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Valentine’s Week had only just begun, and I knew I had to find a way to navigate the days ahead, balancing the light-hearted moments with the gravity of my family’s situation. The lavender rose was a beacon of hope, a reminder that amidst all the chaos, there were still moments of beauty and connection.
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As we neared my house, a sudden craving hit me. "Can we make a detour?" I asked my driver. Despite still being in my leotard with a skirt and leggings, I needed a break from the intensity of the day.
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The driver nodded, and a few moments later, we pulled up to my favorite café. I stepped out, eager for a double strawberry milkshake. As I walked in, the familiar scent of freshly baked pastries and coffee enveloped me, bringing a sense of comfort.
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Standing in line, I noticed Graeme Yorkley—gloomy, mysterious, and easy on the eyes. He was the captain of the hockey team, known for his reserved nature and the countless admirers he had because of it.
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He glanced at me, his dark eyes taking in my outfit. "What’s with the ballet clothes?" he remarked snarkily.
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I felt a spark of irritation. "It’s not ballet. I’m a figure skater."
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His eyes widened in genuine surprise. "Really? I didn’t know that."
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"Yeah," I replied, the tension easing slightly. "I’ve been figure skating for years."
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Graeme nodded, a hint of respect in his gaze. "I’m the captain of the hockey team. We share the same passion for the ice, then."
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A moment of understanding passed between us, bridging the gap between our different worlds. As we waited for our orders, the conversation flowed more easily, revealing layers of his personality that made him more than just the brooding figure everyone saw.
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"So, how often do you practice?" Graeme asked, genuinely curious.
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"Every day, after school," I replied. "It’s a lot of hard work, but I love it. How about you?"
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"Same here," he said, his voice softening. "Hockey is intense, but it's my passion. The ice rink feels like home."
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Our orders were ready, and I picked up my double strawberry milkshake with a smile. "Thanks for the chat," I said, lifting my milkshake in a mock toast.
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"Anytime," he replied, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "See you around, figure skater."
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As I left the café, sipping my milkshake, I couldn’t help but feel lighter. The unexpected connection with Graeme was a reminder that even in the midst of chaos, there were moments of genuine human connection. And as I headed home, I held onto that feeling, ready to face whatever Valentine’s Week had in store.
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The drive home felt less burdensome. My thoughts were a whirl of lavender roses, the ice rink, and Graeme's surprising warmth. Valentine’s Week promised to be more eventful than I had anticipated, and I was determined to make the most of it.
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When I finally got home, the atmosphere was surprisingly light. Laughter echoed from the living room, a sound that had become rare in our house lately. As I walked in, I was met with an unexpected sight—Auden was sitting there with my brother Wiley and our parents, all enjoying each other’s company.
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Auden turned to me with a warm smile. "Hi, Kaye. I’m Auden. It's nice to officially meet you."
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Confused, I nodded and greeted her back. "Nice to meet you too, Auden."
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"How was Rose Day, Kaye?" my mom asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.
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Auden, who was the Treasurer at school, chimed in before I could respond. "Kaye was the delicate rose petal of the day. She received the most roses by far. All her secret admirers must have rushed to buy her roses."
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I felt a flush of embarrassment. "Really? I didn't realize..."
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My mom’s face lit up with pride. "That’s wonderful, Kaye."
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As I stood there, it became clear to me that there was a romantic connection between Wiley and Auden. Their subtle glances and shared smiles spoke volumes. Before I could dwell on it too much, my driver walked in, carrying all the roses I had received.
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My mom jumped up, excitement in her eyes. "Let’s get these into some water."
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My dad excused himself to his study, leaving me alone with my mother in the kitchen. As I sipped my milkshake, I congratulated her. "Mom, congratulations on your issue on the cover of the latest release of the society magazine."
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My mom beamed. "Thank you, Kaye. It’s a proud moment for our family."
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I hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Mom, I’ve been thinking... I might want to go to the Valentine Formal after all. But I’ll only go if Stasi goes with me."
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At the mention of Stasi, I noticed a flicker of discomfort cross my mother’s face, though she hid it expertly. "Of course, dear. It’s important to spend time with your friends."
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I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and curiosity about my mother’s reaction. "Thanks, Mom."
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As we arranged the roses in vases, my mom turned to me with a thoughtful expression. "Do you have a dress for the formal?"
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I shook my head. "No, I don't."
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Her face lit up with a smile. "Then we'll go shopping tomorrow. It will be a great opportunity for us to spend some time together."
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I agreed reluctantly, not entirely thrilled at the prospect but knowing it would make her happy. "Alright, that sounds nice."
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She continued, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "And with so many admirers, it shouldn't be hard for you to find a consort to the High Society Gala."
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I rolled my eyes playfully. "We'll see about that."
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As we finished arranging the roses, I felt a sense of calm settle over me. The light-hearted atmosphere was a welcome change, and the thought of spending time with my mom brought a hint of excitement.
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The unexpected connection with Graeme, the lingering thoughts of Jae, and the light-hearted moments at home—everything felt like it was aligning in a way I hadn't anticipated. Valentine’s Week was turning out to be more eventful than I had imagined, and I was determined to embrace every moment.
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Tuesday morning brought the hustle and bustle of Candy Gram Tuesday. The air was filled with laughter and the sweet scent of candy, but I couldn’t shake the lingering thoughts of the lavender rose and my meeting with Jae. As I walked through the halls of Bloomfield Gymnasium, clutching my books, I caught sight of Lizzie and Kat casting weird glances my way.
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I joined Stasi and Clary in the courtyard for a break. The sun was shining brightly, and the courtyard was buzzing with students exchanging candy grams. I was surprised as many of my secret admirers had finally mustered up the courage, as they each, one by one, dropped off a candy gram or two, at our table. I couldn't help but notice Lizzie and Kat again, their eyes fixed on us with an unsettling intensity.
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“What's their deal?” I asked Stasi, nodding towards them.
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Clary shifted uncomfortably before cutting in with an annoyed tone. “Maybe if you had kept your mouth shut and said nothing about the prank, they wouldn’t be staring at us. They’re probably concocting a plan to ruin whatever little popularity we have.”
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I blinked, taken aback by Clary's bitterness. Unbeknownst to me that her mother’s harshness have been lingering over her like a shadow, but I was growing tired of her constant obsession and negative remarks. “You’re being such a bitch lately, Clary, it’s getting toxic,” I snapped, unable to hold back my frustration.
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Stasi glanced between us, her expression one of concern. “Hey, let’s not do this here.”
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Clary’s eyes flashed with hurt and anger, but she remained silent. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. The tension was thick, and the last thing I wanted was to make a scene in front of everyone.
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As the bell rang, signalling the end of the break, we gathered our things and headed to class. The rest of the day was a blur, filled with awkward glances and unspoken words between Clary and me and constantly in between changing classes, catching the daunting gaze of Jae, at this point, my cheeks were on constant fire. The usual joy of Candy Gram Tuesday was still overshadowed by the heaviness of my argument with Clary. And I felt bad for the harsh words I had said to her.
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After school, I met up with my mom for our dress shopping trip. She was already waiting for me in the car, a bright smile on her face. “Ready to find the perfect dress for the Valentine Formal?”
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I nodded, trying to shake off the day’s tension. “Yeah, let’s do this.”
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The boutique was bustling with activity, and I couldn’t help but notice the eyes that followed us. My mother’s new social position seemed to draw attention wherever we went and every boutique, offered us exclusive memberships and special treatment. As we browsed through the racks of dresses, the shop assistant brought out a few exclusive dresses, to my mom’s delight as she pointed out a few options that she thought would look good on me.
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“How about this one?” she asked, holding up a stunning red gown.
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“Well, that’s pre-ordered. That dress belongs to my daughter, and just like her it’s the only one of its kind.” Mrs Archer’s voice cut through the boutique, a look of entitlement on her face.
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Kat had a smug look on her face, standing proudly next to her mother.
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“Well, this was offered to my daughter to try on, and if she likes it, I will buy it for her.” My mom smirked, taunting Mrs Archer with her psychological games. “Everyone knows exclusive dresses, is offered to the highest bidders, pre-ordered or not. Claire, honey, are you sure you can outmatch my offer?”
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The shop assistant looked uncomfortable, but before she could manage a word, the commotion stirred soon grabbed the attention of the manager who made her way over quickly. “Is there a problem?” she asked in a hushed voice.
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Mrs Archer didn’t back down, her eyes dark with anger, her entire body filled with rage, “I’m the mayor’s wife, and I ordered that dress for my daughter. Why is this woman’s greedy palms holding it?”
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“Well, Mrs Archer, there seems to be a misunderstanding. Pre-ordered dresses become exclusive dresses once the buyer fails to pick up the dress on arrival, and since this is a limited Pachini dress, we must sell it to the highest bidder, thereafter. It’s the policy, so if your offer is higher than Mrs Burchart’s, the dress is yours.”
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Both Kat and her mother was fuming, I tried the dress on and I loved it, and my mother thought it was absolutely stunning on me. Also, I wanted to teach Kat a lesson, that even though they think they held all the power, they can’t always get what they wanted. Right there, the bidding war began and soon, my mom had the upper hand, saying that whatever price Mrs Archer offered to pay, she will double. I had a feeling; this would not be the end of seeing Mrs Archer as she and Kat left embarrassed and defeated.
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After finding the perfect dress, we headed home. The tension from earlier had eased, replaced by a sense of accomplishment and anticipation for the upcoming formal. The connection with my mom felt stronger, and I was grateful for the time we had spent together.
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The next day passed in a blur. Thoughts of the pier, Jae, and even Graeme filled my mind, making it hard to concentrate on my classes. As the day drew to a close, I found myself eagerly looking forward to the evening.
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By the time I reached the old pier, the sky was painted with hues of orange and pink, the setting sun casting a warm glow over everything. Jae was already there, leaning against the wooden railing, a soft smile playing on his lips.
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"Hey," I greeted him, my voice tinged with nervousness.
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"Hey," he replied, his eyes meeting mine with that familiar warmth.
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We walked along the pier, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore creating a soothing backdrop. It felt like no time had passed since our last visit here, and yet so much had changed.
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As we talked, I couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia mixed with hope. The lavender rose and the memories it stirred were ever-present in my mind, and I wondered if Jae felt the same connection.
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"Do you remember the garden at the mental health resort?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
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Jae paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "I do. Those were some of the most peaceful moments I've ever experienced."
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I smiled, feeling a sense of relief. "I found a lavender rose on my desk yesterday. It reminded me of that garden."
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A look of surprise flickered in Jae's eyes, followed by a gentle smile. "I'm glad it brought back good memories."
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As we continued to walk and talk, the bond between us seemed to strengthen. The pier, the garden, the lavender rose—all these elements intertwined to create a tapestry of shared experiences and emotions.
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When the evening came to an end, I felt a sense of contentment. The connections with Jae and Graeme, the anticipation of the Valentine Formal, and the light-hearted moments at home all came together to create a sense of balance in my life.
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Valentine’s Week was turning out to be more eventful than I had imagined, and I was determined to embrace every moment.
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Evelyn Archer sat in the garden, the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees as she leisurely flipped through the latest issue of the prominent society magazine. The cover, featuring Beatrice Burchart, faced outward, a picture of poise and elegance. As Claire approached, she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the sight of Beatrice’s rise to prominence.
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Evelyn’s eyes gleamed with approval as she glanced up from the magazine. "Beatrice Burchart—what a remarkable woman. Her elegance, her sudden rise in high society... truly impressive."
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Claire swallowed hard, trying to mask her bitterness. "Yes, she’s certainly... something."
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Evelyn’s gaze remained fixed on the magazine, her disapproval of her daughter-in-law still evident after eighteen years. "You could learn a thing or two from her. It’s not easy to navigate the social circles with such grace and finesse."
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Just then, Kat stormed into the garden, her face flushed with anger and embarrassment. "Grandma, you won't believe what happened at the boutique!"
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Evelyn looked up, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "What is it, dear?"
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Kat's voice trembled with frustration. "Mom let that Burchart woman take my dress! It was humiliating!"
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Evelyn's eyes narrowed, and she turned her icy gaze to Claire. "Is this true?"
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Claire fidgeted nervously, her voice faltering. "They outbid us, Evelyn. There was nothing I could do."
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Kat’s eyes filled with tears. "Everyone saw, Grandma. They all laughed at us."
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Evelyn closed the magazine with a decisive snap, her expression hardening. "Claire, this is unacceptable. You’ve embarrassed our family. You need to fix this."
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Claire felt the weight of her mother-in-law’s judgment bearing down on her. "I'll make it right, Evelyn. I promise."
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Evelyn’s eyes softened slightly, but her tone remained stern. "See that you do. Our family's reputation is at stake."
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Kat looked to her grandmother for comfort. "It's just not fair, Grandma. That's my dress and now that girl will be wearing it to the Valentine Formal."
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Evelyn sighed, her expression softening as she pulled Kat into a comforting embrace. "We'll make sure you get what you deserve, dear."
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At that moment, Kat's phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen before excusing herself. "It's Joey. I need to take this call."
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As Kat walked away, Evelyn turned her sharp gaze back to Claire. "You were a social climber when you married into this family, Claire. And now my precious granddaughter is suffering because you never could amount to anything."
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Claire’s face paled, the harsh words cutting deep. "I'm doing my best, Evelyn."
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Evelyn’s eyes were cold. "Your best isn’t good enough. If you still want a standing in society, and if you want Harold to be re-elected as mayor, you better befriend Beatrice quickly. Our family name cannot afford to suffer, and I will not allow it."
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Claire swallowed hard, the weight of Evelyn’s ultimatum pressing down on her. "I'll do whatever it takes, Evelyn."
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Evelyn nodded curtly, her expression unyielding. "See that you do."
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As Evelyn turned and left, Claire sank into a nearby chair, the weight of her mother-in-law’s words pressing heavily on her. She stared blankly at the magazine cover, Beatrice's serene smile mocking her from the glossy pages. The garden, once a place of solace, now felt suffocating.
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Claire's mind wandered back to the days before Beatrice entered their social circle. She had always felt overshadowed, even then. Alice Starling had been betrothed to Harold when he met Claire. Alice, with her perfect manners and social grace, had always seemed like the ideal choice. But Harold had chosen Claire, and though she had won his hand, she had never felt like she truly belonged.
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Living under the constant scrutiny and verbal abuse of Evelyn and Harold had taken its toll on her. The relentless pressure to maintain their social standing, the ceaseless reminders of her inadequacies—it all made her wonder if this life was truly worth it. Was it worth sacrificing her happiness, her sense of self, just to keep up appearances?
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She glanced back at the magazine, the image of Beatrice blurring as tears filled her eyes. The woman had taken the cover that should have been hers, just as Alice had once overshadowed her. It seemed like she was always living in someone else's shadow, never able to step into the light.
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Claire wiped her tears away, a sense of determination stirring within her. She had to find a way to navigate this treacherous social terrain, not just for herself, but for children. Her daughters deserved better than to be humiliated and overlooked. And if that meant befriending Beatrice, swallowing her pride, and playing the social game more strategically, then so be it.
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She rose from the chair, a newfound resolve hardening her heart. She would not let Evelyn or Harold break her. She would reclaim her place in high society, not just for her own sake, but for her children’s future. This life was a battlefield, and she was ready to fight.
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