Naomi's POV

The envelope was thicker than most of the Cream-colored ones, it was sealed with a gold-embossed crest I hadn't seen in over a year.

The board.

I held it in my hands longer than necessary, the weight of my name staring back at me-Naomi Erica Thompson Darlington.

I hadn't thought about that side of my life in weeks. Not since the gala, not since the letter from the council.

But the company hadn't forgotten me. Or more accurately-hadn't forgotten what I represented.

I ...