Amelia’s POV

I hated the way Victoria spoke to her.

It wasn’t discipline. It wasn’t parenting. It was cruelty wrapped in red lipstick and false authority. Words like knives, flung carelessly, cutting into a little girl’s heart that hadn’t yet learned how to shield itself.

I could still hear it—Lila’s small voice, trembling as she whispered, “Mommy yelled at me. She called me stupid.” The echo haunted me, louder than the gala music, louder than the whispers of reporters, ...