Finnick's sharp gaze left me no choice but to change into the outfit Molly had prepared.
The dress looked simple at first — a plain spaghetti-strap design. But the fabric was finely tailored, fitting perfectly, radiating a quiet elegance. It had one problem: the thin straps left the mark on my neck fully exposed.
I had no concealer, only foundation. I dabbed some over it, took a deep breath, and followed Finnick downstairs.
The dining room was already lively. Elder Mr. Norton sat at the head of the table, with Mark, Fabian, and Ashley already eating. The moment we walked in, Mark frowned.
"Finnick, you're late. How could you make your grandfather wait?"
Finnick smiled faintly. "Isn't Grandpa already eating? I went to bed late — I was a little busy last night."
Silence fell over the table. Everyone understood. Their gazes shifted toward me at once, and heat rushed to my face.
