Chapter 120

The memories remained vivid in Camille's mind, even after all these years.

That day still haunted her. She remembered rushing to the restroom, heart shattered, only to return and find Rosalie holding two ice creams - one for her, one for Selene.

A careless waiter had brushed against one cone, leaving an ugly grease mark on its perfect swirl.

Selene had immediately claimed the pristine one.

Rosalie had simply smiled and ruffled Camille's hair, making no effort to replace the soiled treat.

When she returned, Rosalie wordlessly handed her the damaged ice cream without explanation for the missing chunk.

The Lancaster family could have bought a thousand ice creams without blinking. Ten thousand, even.

Yet Rosalie couldn't be bothered to get a replacement.

That moment burned itself into Camille's consciousness - the realization that Rosalie's affection had long since faded.

She'd never forget young Selene's expression either - watching her accept the tainted dessert with barely concealed malice.

Malcolm had orchestrated countless similar humiliations.

Now, thinking back, Damien hardly mattered anymore.

Observing Rosalie's practiced concern and Helena's self-righteous lecturing, Camille let out a bitter laugh and redirected the conversation to Damien and Selene.

"You claim to care about me. I want to believe that. But if your idea of caring means helping Selene destroy my marriage, what does that say?"

Neither Rosalie nor Helena flinched. They'd clearly anticipated this response.

Rosalie sighed dramatically. "Cami, you know how things stand between you and Damien. Why chain someone who doesn't love you? Divorce means freedom. Grandma is—"

"Let me guess - doing what's best for me?" Camille interrupted.

She studied them coldly. "You've recycled this speech so often - doesn't it bore you? If you're going to dismiss me, at least invent something new."

"How can I take you seriously when you won't even put in the effort? Next time, try originality."

Before they could respond, she continued, "Not that it would change anything. Actions speak louder than words, don't they?"

Her sharp retort left them momentarily speechless.

Rosalie recovered quickly. As she opened her mouth to respond, Camille turned to Emmett, who had just returned. "Mr. Harrington, are we finished here? Shall we go?"

Emmett had sensed the tension. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Of course."

Turning to Rosalie and Helena, he nodded. "Mrs. Lancaster, Ms. Lancaster, we'll take our leave."

Rosalie smiled graciously, but her sigh when looking at Camille was heavy with disapproval.

Ever since Malcolm divorced Audrey, every act of defiance from Camille had been met with these disappointed sighs from him and Rosalie.

As if she was the problem. The difficult one. The disappointment.

The conditioning ran so deep that after moving to the Hartwell estate with her mother, Camille developed an actual phobia of disappointed sighs.

For years - until she was nearly thirteen - despite the Hartwell family's kindness, she'd been painfully obedient. Terrified of mistakes. Afraid to breathe wrong.