Lydia's Point Of View
The moment the words left my mouth, Lucinda surged up from the velvet cushions as though jolted by electricity. She didn't walk… she scrambled toward me, her expensive silk dress twisting around her knees, and seized my forearms so hard I could feel her manicured nails digging through my blazer.
The grip was desperate, almost violent in its intensity. I could feel her pulse hammering against my skin, a frantic rhythm that matched my own racing heartbeat.
"They're lying, right?" Lucinda's voice emerged as a jagged mess of snot and hysteria, each word breaking apart before it fully formed. "Lydia, tell me they're lying! Tell me this is some sick joke Grandma is playing to teach us a lesson about... I don't know, responsibility? Tell me!" Her breath came in short, ragged gasps, hot against my face as she leaned closer, searching my eyes for reassurance I couldn't give.
