Mira’s POV}The moment Kamara stepped into my home, the atmosphere changed. She wasn’t loud. She didn’t have to be.She carried herself with the confidence of someone who believed she owned every room she entered. Her expensive heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she glanced around my living room, taking in every detail. A faint smile curved her lips, not one of admiration, but of silent judgment. Without asking for permission, she walked to the largest couch in the living room and sat down gracefully, crossing one leg over the other as though she were the hostess of the evening.It was my house. Yet somehow She made me feel like a visitor. I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a smile onto my face. “Welcome,” I said politely.One after another, I greeted every guest with respect. They returned my greeting warmly, thanking me for welcoming them into our home. When I reached Kamara, I offered her the same courtesy.“Good evening, Kamara.”She looked up at me, her
Read more