"No, he didn't drown you. He saved us!" Another voice answered before Henry could muster a reply.
Both Henry and Estelle paused at the voice.
The click of heels echoed against the office floor as Victoria entered like she owned the air itself, the scent of expensive perfume sliding in before her. Her coat was perfectly tailored, and not a strand of hair was out of place.
Estelle turned slowly, and instead of her mother, all she could see was her executioner. She turned back to Henry.
"Father," she whispered, desperation breaking through despite her pride. "You are nothing like her. Please, you can still fix this. You always said you would be there for me, now, I need your help."
Henry's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Instead, he bowed his head, and that silence hurt more than any insult.
Victoria let out a soft, amused chuckle. "Did you truly think I negotiated that deal alone?" she asked lightly. "In whose name do you think the check was written?"
