Margaret paced the length of the living room, her heels clicking against the polished marble with sharp, impatient beats. Her face was still taut with fury, lips pressed into a thin, unforgiving line. But her eyes weren’t on the floor—no, they kept darting toward Aaron, gauging, reading, searching for affirmation.

“You saw the news, Aaron,” she snapped, her voice clipped but carrying the weight of unshaken conviction. “There’s no coming back from something like this. That… ...