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The rain hadn't let up all afternoon, turning the city into a blur of glass and grey as Adelaide stormed out of the Kingsley townhouse. Her heels echoed off the stone steps, but she didn't care who heard her. Her coat flapped open in the wind as she flagged the nearest car, eyes glossy with betrayal, voice low and clipped as she gave the De Haan address.
She couldn't stay there—not after what she'd overheard. She had gone to Julien's loft to return a borrowed book, just in time to hear laughter and the truth unraveling like ribbon.
"She was never supposed to find out," Audrey had said.
"Well, Camille swore it would help her grow," Julien added. "And Zoya—honestly, I think she got too into the role. She liked being Camille's pet project."
Luna had laughed, quietly. "I just wanted Monet to chill. I didn't think it would blow up like this."
They had all been there. They had all watched it unfold—Monet's unraveling, her pain—and let it happen.
And worst of all? They hadn't told her. Not one of them. Not even Audrey.
Her own friends.
The betrayal twisted in her gut, equal parts fury and heartbreak. Because if they had all turned on Monet for her sake... what did that say about her? About the role she'd played?
The car pulled up to the De Haan estate and she threw cash at the driver, too shaken to wait for change. The gates were open—of course they were. The manor always looked cold from the outside, all glass and stone, but Monet's bedroom lights were on.
She didn't even knock. Just walked straight through the front door like a storm wearing heels and heartbreak.
Camille appeared in the hallway at the sound, wine glass in hand, startled but saying nothing. Her silence was approval cloaked in uncertainty.
Monet was upstairs.
Adelaide didn't pause to knock this time either.
She flung the door open.
Monet sat curled at the edge of her bed, hair up in a messy bun, a silk robe too large on her frame. Her laptop was open but forgotten, a Gossip Girl post still flashing on the screen.
When she looked up, her eyes were raw, tired—but widened instantly at the sight of Adelaide.
"You knew?" Adelaide said quietly, shutting the door behind her. Her voice trembled.
Monet didn't play coy. She just stared. "About what?"
"That they planned to break you. That my mom knew. That your mom orchestrated the entire downfall to make you into someone more palatable."
Silence.
Adelaide shook her head, stepping closer. "And no one thought to tell me. Not Luna. Not Audrey. Not Julien. Everyone knew—except me."
