Olivia's POV
My mother stepped inside. Of course. Because even in my worst moments, I was never allowed the space to breathe.
She furrowed her brows. "You don't seem happy to see me," she said.
I frowned, pushing myself up so I could sit properly on the bed. I folded my legs beneath me and leaned my back against the headboard, steadying myself before looking her straight in the eye.
She looked beautiful today, dressed in a royal blue gown that swept elegantly across the floor. Her long black hair was pulled neatly into a bun, showing off the striking lines of her face. She was still beautiful, ageless almost. Despite nearing fifty, she looked remarkably young, her appearance still capable of being mistaken for a woman in her late thirties.
