One by one, Lyndon presented the women to Rosalynn, all distinguished figures from Skrix society.

She greeted each with a courteous nod and a practiced smile.

However, upon meeting the last woman’s gaze, her smile faded slightly.

It was Ivy Larson.

The memory of their last uncomfortable encounter lingered in Rosalynn’s mind.

Caught off guard by Rosalynn’s status as a Moreno, Ivy’s face bore a tinge of awkwardness.

“Miss Moreno,” she greeted.

to me as Rosalynn,” she stated without

over Ivy’s features. Under her composed exterior, irritation simmered. Rosalynn’s disregard for her goodwill hadn’t

been a Moreno, would she have bothered conversing with her? Hell

N G E L A ‘s L I B

Tilda, perched upon a chair, altered Ivy’s

Her presence was puzzling.

the company of

with some friends,” Rosalynn offered, presenting

Tilda, Lyndon’s

“Miss Larson?”

her glasses with a strained smile, Tilda excused herself, “Pardon

hasty, her foot colliding with a nearby

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