Reborn Matriarch: Shattering The Orphan's Mask

he high-thread-count E

felt like swallowing broken glass. Cold sweat plastered the silk nightgown t

ound of her husband Grant's body hitting the Manhattan pavement echoed i

ut and forced herself to

d the vaulted ceiling of the master bedroom in the Stephenson estate. Th

uld barely grasp the phone rest

side button. T

ervous system. It was seven years ago. The exact day she had originally

to the thick Persian

stark white. She dug her manicured nails into her palms u

lianna went to prison to protect them. Before

ed the towering inferno of hatred inside her chest

feet hit the floor, the coarse te

s not the hollowed-out, grieving shell from her nightmare. This woman had flawle

tailored cashmere loungewear set. The soft fabric armored her bo

bedroom. The cold metal of the doorknob

taircase. Her steps were measured,

ound caught her attention. It was a low, su

rd. She slid the device onto the edge of a decorative marble console table in the hallway, completely hidden behind

the cushions. She was typ

. It was a look that completely shattered the tragic,

phone, and started a screaming match. That reaction had only a

this

column. She deliberately brought her

choed through the

anic. She scrambled to flip the phone face-down on

e vanished. Evelyn bit her lower lip, f

sickeningly sweet, laced w

face entirely blank and walked straight

glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. The liquid s

o the living room. She stopped right in f

range juice. Her eyes were dead

ed to take the glass. The silence stretched. The air i

The lack of screaming was breaking her psych

letting a single tear roll down her cheek. "I

ched with her thumb and slowly twisted t

red, her voice devoid of any

urned her back on Evelyn and walked toward the dining room, leaving the