The silver clink of cutlery echoed softly in the elegant breakfast room of the Montgomery estate. Anastasia sat with impeccable posture, her hand tightening around her fork as she stared at her untouched food. The question lingered in the air like a venomous perfume.
"Why didn't you attend your father's funeral?" Claudine's voice had the lilt of curiosity laced with judgment, her eyes pinned on Anastasia with unsettling interest.
No one had ever asked her that before. Not when she came home from college. Not her mother. Not even the press, oddly.
Biting her lip, Anastasia lifted her head slowly and offered a fragile smile. "Because I couldn't."
Claudine tilted her head, her platinum hair catching the morning light. "Why would a daughter not attend her father's funeral? Why? What would stop a daughter from attending her father's funeral?"
