Chapter 48: Beatrice’s Quiet Protection

The reporters moved like water.

They did not rush. They flowed. From balcony railings. From the edges of the dance floor. From behind marble columns where champagne flutes caught light and reflected faces. Their smiles were practiced. Their questions sharpened by timing rather than volume.

Lillian felt the shift before she saw it. The air tightened. Murmurs leaned inward. Catherine’s hand clenched around her wrist.

“Lily,” Catherine whispered. “They are coming.”

Lillian straightened her shoulde