Christina's parents were waiting for us in the grand, echoing drawing room of their mansion, their faces a mask of anxious, desperate hope. The moment we stepped through the door, they rushed forward, their eyes wide with a thousand unspoken questions.
"It is done Father and Mother," Christina said, her voice a low, quiet murmur that was a stark contrast to the chaotic, emotional storm that had just swept through her life. "The marriage… it is annulled."
Her father let out a long, shuddering breath, his body slumping with a profound, soul-deep relief. Her mother, her own eyes swimming with tears, pulled Christina into a tight, desperate hug. "Oh, my child," she whispered, her own voice a raw, broken thing. "You are safe."
But they were celebrating too soon.
