SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 83

Chapter 83

The late afternoon sun slanted through the tall windows of the Lewis family estate, casting long

shadows across the polished floors. Margaret Lewis sat alone in the east wing parlor, surrounded by open photo albums. Her trembling fingers traced a photograph of seven- year- old Camille, beaming with a missing front tooth

and holding a science fair ribbon.

"First place," Margaret whispered to the empty room, her smile crumpling.

She turned a page. Camille at

ten, sitting with Margaret on marble steps, their heads bent over. "The Secret Garden." Margaret remembered how Camille had begged to read two chapters that night.

The memories washed over her in waves. These were all from before Rose had

arrived when Camille was thirteen. Before everything changed.

With shaking hands, she pulled out a photo

tucked between pages: Camille at ten in the kitchen with Margaret, making Christmas cookies despite the chef's protests. Flour dusted their faces, laughter frozen in time. They had been inseparable then.

"We were happy," Margaret said to the photograph. "We were so happy."

She hadn't realized she was crying until a tear splashed onto the

plastic sleeve. Margaret wiped it away carefully, then pressed

the album to her chest.

The fifteen-thousand-square-foot mansion felt

too vast now, too quiet. Since the day the visited Camille and she cut ties with them, Margaret had moved through each day like a ghost. Richard's voice echoed in the hallway as he spoke to Bradford, their butler.

"No calls, Bradford. Not even from the board."

"Very good, sir. Shall I have Mrs. Peters prepare dinner for two

in the small dining room?"

"That would be fine. And tell her no seafood tonight. Margaret isn't up to it."

Margaret turned another page. Camille at

fourteen, playing the grand piano at her recital.

Richard's footsteps approached, then stopped in the doorway.

"Oh, Maggie," he said softly, using the nickname he hadn't spoken in years.

Margaret looked up at her husband. His bespoke suit couldn't hide how his frame had thinned, his shoulders slumped. His face seemed to have aged a decade in

the past month, deep lines carved around his mouth.

“Look at us,” Margaret said, holding up a family vacation photo. "She was twelve here. Remember how she wanted to learn to scuba dive, and you were so worried?"

Richard knelt beside her, taking the photo.

went anyway," he

"Came back with that

I worried too

right. We should have worried less about the wrong

photo: Camille

she was making a mistake choosing Boston instead of Yale. I told her

shook his head. “She was following

Camille winning debate tournaments,

animal shelter, laughing with friends at

was always so good, Richard. So kind." Margaret's hands shook. "And we

happen? When did we stop

Camille and Stefan at their engagement

smile that

wanted to see," he said. "Rose was so... perfect on the surface. She said all the right things, did all the right things. She moved through our

and questioned everything. Who didn't care about appearing

failed her." Richard's voice broke. "Our own

closed her eyes, remembering Camille's face at Kane

ago, cold

you think she'll ever forgive us?

answer immediately.

at each one

know," he said

Rose and Stefan... The way we doubted her, accused

can apologize," Margaret said desperately. "We

tried

like we were shareholders asking

meant nothing

cheeks. "That's not our

"No,"

woman we met at Kane Industries, that's who our daughter had to become to survive what was done to her. What was done to her wh

photo from Camille's wedding to Stefan. The

looking at her, even then. How did we not see

the daughter we thought we

was

so much stronger than

came, the images changed dramatically. Fewer candid shots,

garage," Margaret realized. "We lost her starting the day Rose arrived.

we chose Rose's version over hers.

we praised Rose's perfect manners while criticizing

nodded. "And now she belongs to Victoria

her? Actually loves

if Victoria Kane is capable of love the way we understand it. But she saw value

failed to. She gave her

her old one

Margaret's hands curled into fists. "Our 'perfect' daughter who tried

our real daughter killed."

when

silence. She broke

from her horse, and I slept in her room for a week. It was the last time I

would tell her stories until she fell

girls who fought dragons or

waiting to

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