The applause faded.
People began talking again—louder now, excited, buzzing with speculation about the collaboration. Glasses clinked. Music swelled. The gala resumed as if nothing monumental had just happened.
My heart, however, did not resume anything.
It remained lodged somewhere in my throat.
"Well done," Father had said.
I nodded politely, smiled when someone congratulated us, accepted a champagne flute I had no intention of drinking, and did my absolute best to appear like a composed Hawthorne daughter instead of someone internally screaming.
Because Marian Stark was watching me.
I could feel it.
I didn't need to look to know. It was like standing too close to a spotlight—you don't see it, but you feel the heat.
"She's going to try to talk to me again," I muttered under my breath.
Mack glanced sideways. "Who?"
"her," I said while staring at Marian. "The problem."
He followed my gaze this time and stiffened slightly when he saw Marian across the room, speaking with a group of investors. She looked relaxed. Poised. In control.
Dangerous.
"You don't have to interact with her," Mack said quietly. "If she tries, I'll handle it."
My chest loosened a fraction. "Thank you."
We stood there for several minutes, talking to guests, smiling, nodding, repeating the same safe phrases over and over.
Thank you for coming.
We're excited about the future.
Yes, it's a promising collaboration.
I was doing well.
I was surviving.
And then the universe remembered it hated me.
"Violet."
I flinched.
Marian was suddenly there—close enough that I could see the faint shimmer of light against her dark hair, close enough that the scent of her perfume reached me.
It wasn't overwhelming. Just… noticeable.
I hated that my brain registered it.
"Yes?" I replied, too fast.
Marian's gaze flicked briefly to Mack, then back to me. "May I borrow her for a moment?"
Borrow.
As if I were an object.
Mack hesitated. "Is this business-related?"
Marian's lips curved slightly. "Personal."
Absolutely not.
"No," I said immediately.
Both of them looked at me.
"I mean—" I cleared my throat. "I'm needed here. For… Hawthorne things."
Marian didn't argue.
She just waited.
Patiently.
Like a predator that knew its prey would eventually have to breathe.
"Fine." I sighed.
Mack shifted uncomfortably. "Violet—"
"I'll be right back," I said suddenly, because staying felt worse than leaving. "I promise."
Mack looked conflicted but nodded. "Don't go far."
I nodded back, then followed Marian toward a quieter corner of the ballroom, my every step screaming bad decision.
The moment we were out of earshot, I turned to face her.
"Okay," I said, crossing my arms. "What do you want?"
Direct.
Marian studied me for a moment.
Up close, she was… even more intimidating. Not loud. Not aggressive. Just composed in a way that made you feel like you were the one being unreasonable.
"You've been avoiding me," she said.
"I don't see how that concerns you."
She tilted her head slightly. "You disappeared."
I scoffed. "People disappear all the time."
"You didn't," she said calmly. "You left."
My stomach dropped.
"…Excuse me?"
Marian's gaze sharpened, as if she'd said something she hadn't meant to.
"I mean," she corrected smoothly, "you vanished from public view. After the incident."
Oh.
I laughed, a little too loudly. "Yeah. Hospitals do that. Very rude of them."
Silence stretched between us.
Marian looked at me like she was trying to decide whether to press further or retreat.
She pressed.
"Do you remember me?" she asked.
There it was.
The question I had been dreading.
I stiffened. "Should I?"
Her eyes darkened—not with anger, but something more complicated.
"You should," she said.
Ah.
A confession.
Or an accusation.
Either way, not good.
"I'm sorry," I said carefully. "I've met a lot of people."
That was a lie.
But it was also the best response.
Marian watched me closely, searching my face for something. Recognition. Memory. A crack.
She didn't find it.
"I see," she said quietly.
Relief flooded me so fast it almost knocked me over.
That was good, actually it was Perfect.
She would give up now.
and this would be over.
Instead, she said:
"Well, we used to be…familiar"
Oh.
Oh no.
My spine went cold.
I don't remember this being in the book.
"I—" I swallowed. "I don't think—"
"Maybe that will help you remember," Marian responded flatly, voice even.
My mind raced.
What had Violet don't to her?
No
How had they known each other?
"I'm sorry," I said sheepishly, Not because I knew what Violet had done to offend Marian, but because i'm sure she did something to offend Marian. "If I hurt you, I'm sorry."
Marian's brows knit slightly, as if that wasn't the response she expected.
"Are you?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, without hesitation. "I don't remember anything, but I'm sorry."
She searched my face again.
The tension shifted—not easing, but changing shape.
"Are you okay? You're not acting like yourself..," she said.
I didn't reply.
It was quiet for a long moment.
Around us, the gala continued—laughter, music, celebration—but it felt like we were standing in a bubble apart from it all.
Finally, Marian spoke.
"Thats all I wanted to talk about." Marian said, already turning away.
I blinked.
That was all?? What does this mean..I don't remember anything like this happening in the original book.