Catherine scoffed in distaste when she looked around the school.
It was smaller than she expected. Modest. Far beneath the standards of the elite institutions Tim Carter's daughter should be attending.
Her manicured fingers tightened around the handle of her handbag as she took slow, deliberate steps through the entrance, her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings.
The hallways were clean but lacked extravagance. The teachers were polite but not particularly refined. And the children—running, laughing, oblivious to the weight of their bloodlines—disgusted her.
Her granddaughter should have been raised in a place of power. Not here. She hated the guts of Aurora to raise Tim's blood with this amount of modesty.
She had searched deeply for where this child schooled. For weeks, she had followed every thread, and every whisper. Tim had hidden the girl well, but in the end, nothing escaped Catherine's reach.
