I sat rigidly in my chair, staring at the woman who had given me life but little else. The resemblance between us was undeniable—the same dark hair, same green eyes, same facial structure. It was like looking at my future self, complete with the silver strands that now streaked through her once-dark tresses.
"Isabella," Mariella began again, her voice soft and uncertain. "I know this is difficult—"
"Difficult doesn't begin to describe it," I interrupted, keeping my tone measured despite the storm raging inside me. Master Marcus Wilkerson stood quietly by the door, a silent witness to this painful reunion. "I specifically requested a private meeting."
Catherine—my half-sister, I reminded myself bitterly—let out a huff. "Mother thought it would be best if we were here to support her."
"And what I wanted didn't matter?" I asked, arching an eyebrow. "How familiar."
