PLAH!
The sharp crack of flesh against flesh echoed in the morning air, far louder than it had any right to be.
Florence's head snapped to the side, her golden hair falling across her cheek where her mother's palm had struck.
For an instant, she just stood there, stunned and her lips parted with a faint tremble.
"You filthy whore..." Henriette Bleaufort's voice reverberated across the stone steps of the mansion.
Brandon froze where he stood near the car, his fists curling so tightly that his nails bit into his palms.
But Florence… Florence didn't move.
She stood rooted in place, like a child once more before her mother's shadow
"Mother…"
Henriette's expression did not waver "Is this what you have become? Crawling back here with a man like… that?"
"Have you learned nothing, Florence? Did I not carve the weakness out of you long ago?"
Brandon took a step forward and the crunch of gravel under his shoe drew both women's eyes.
*step* *step* *step*
