Your Gold Digger is Actually A True Heiress by Vera Fiore

Chapter 14

The day Rosalind left the hospital, the snow had just cleared, leaving the trees along Harley Street crystalline with frost under a pristine blue sky.

Randolph drove to collect her himself. The couple sat in silence, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words.

Young Thalia sat in the back, drawing pictures on the foggy window, her heart light with joy.

Mum was finally coming home.

She drew their family of three on the window, her face bright with happiness.

Seeing the drawing, Rosalind’s eyes filled with tears. She turned away quickly, composing herself before managing a smile. “Your birthday’s coming up, darling. What would you like?”

Still drawing. Thalia answered brightly, “I’d love a Beagle figurine, Mum.”

“A Beagle?” Rosalind’s voice was gentle. “Like… a real dog?”

“No, no,” Thalia shook her head. “It’s a ceramic one. Victoria says there’s this lovely pottery studio in Marylebone where we can paint our own. She and James went last week and made the sweetest figures.”

Rosalind smiled softly. “Then that’s what we’ll do, darling.”

On Thalia’s twelfth birthday, snow fell over London.

Mother and daughter walked hand in hand into the studio, where they’d pre–ordered an unpainted Beagle figure. The owner brought out their piece, and they began painting together.

It was their first collaborative art project.

The result delighted Thalia–her Beagle looked even lovelier than the sample.

They left for the patisserie nearby.

Walking through the falling snow, Rosalind carrying a cake box in one hand and holding Thalia’s hand with the other, she suddenly stopped. She turned to look at her daughter, love and longing in her eyes.

“Thalia, darling, I love you. So very, very much.” Her voice was soft, almost lost in the winter wind.

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Thalia’s nose was pink from the cold.

Her mother often expressed her love, so she noticed nothing unusual. “I love you too, Mum!”

Rosalind’s eyes welled up again.

Her precious girl was only twelve. How would she manage without her mother?

She turned away quickly, continuing their walk before Thalia could see her tears.

They crossed through the busy streets to the car park where Randolph waited.

Thalia saw her father smoking, grief

when he spotted

she’d

voice rough as he

responded with a soft “mm.”

cooked

in apparent harmony as Thalia, wearing a paper crown, made her birthday wish and blew out

crisis came during

Rosalind lifted a forkful of cake,

in horror, her own cake falling to the floor, staining her new

Rosalind in his arms, voice breaking, “Darling, don’t do this. We’re going

right now.”

called 999 while Thalia stood

Everything had been fine moments ago.

the doctors said she could come

Wasn’t she better?

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arrived quickly

her mother

to form words, she mouthed something Thalia

“I’m sorry”

tears, running out into

please don’t go…”

had to leave immediately, not waiting

until it disappeared

Rosalind

stayed with her through the

know this at the

their housekeeper had

crying out for her

told her

at the hospital. She couldn’t face the reality of that cold

shell.

that as long as she didn’t see it, her mother

that warm, bright woman who lit up rooms

death, Thalia spent days clutching the ceramic Beagle, refusing food and crying

age a decade overnight. The light left his eyes, his hair grayed

later diagnosed with clinical

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Chapter 14

her mother to

another?

later, he married her

had reacted violently, moving into her boarding school dorm immediately. Even during holidays, she’d shut herself