Off to the side, however, the girl sat in stark contrast, her mood sinking deeper with every passing moment. At first, she had tried to salvage the situation, softening her expression, letting her shoulders droop just enough to appear pitiful, hoping to draw their attention back to her.
But it was useless. Every glance, every word, every fragment of attention was directed toward Ashley, as if she were the only one at the table who mattered.
Slowly, that quiet frustration curdled into something darker.
What had begun as irritation twisted into something sharper, more poisonous. She hated it, hated Ashley's sudden return, hated how effortlessly she disrupted the life she had grown comfortable in.
The peace she had carefully built, the place she had secured for herself, it all felt threatened. Worse, she hated how easily Ashley drew them in, as though reclaiming something that had never truly belonged to the girl in the first place.
