When Mrs. Ormond saw the two young people embracing just now, her heart nearly stopped. It felt like the sky was crashing down around her. In that moment, she almost screamed.

But she had instinctively covered her mouth, forcing herself to stay silent.

As soon as the couple let go of each other, she spun around and walked away, no longer watching from the stairs. She wanted to pretend she hadn't seen anything, to go back to her room and process it quietly.

But she couldn't.

She had to talk to her daughter.

Just as she was struggling with her emotions, Elora came upstairs. And now, here she was, sitting in her daughter's room.

Elora studied her mother's expression for a moment before saying, "Alright, Mom, stay here. I'm going to take a hot bath."

Mrs. Ormond simply nodded.

As Elora disappeared into the bathroom, her mother let out a deep sigh.

Now that she had calmed down and thought about it more clearly, she had to admit—damn it, Tatum and her daughter were a perfect match.

The thought unsettled her. She couldn't sit still.

started pacing the room, her fingers absentmindedly brushing over objects on the shelves and desk, as if keeping her hands busy would

the bedside table,

New Year, back when her parents-Elora's

chest, she walked over, picked up the frame, and sat down on

the photo

onto her young shoulders. She had still been a

that changed the moment she was pushed into the top position at

bright, unburdened smile

would have been different. A son would have carried the family burden and Elora could

families in this city had sons to take over their businesses. Their daughters might help out, but they didn't carry the full weight of responsibility.

the freedom to do what they wanted, to fall in love

never had that

the Ormond family ever

in the next generation, but they were still too little to shoulder any responsibility. Instead of being heirs, they were the

she thought about it, the heavier the guilt

like

a brother to share

been able to

"Mom."

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