Simone had always seemed unflappable, breezing through life as if nothing could ruffle her feathers. But now, days had gone by without so much as a glimpse of her—she hadn’t even been active in their group chat. It was odd, to say the least.
Simone was never the type to stay quiet for long.
Aurora felt it too. She’d tried reaching out, inviting Simone out a few times, but was turned down every time. At this point, she had no idea what was going on.
“I’ll ask Simone about it when she gets here,” Aurora said, her brows drawn together with concern.
At that, Queenie seemed to remember something. “By the way, is Leonard coming today?”
Aurora hesitated for a moment before replying, “Stella will be at the party tonight too. I asked Leonard to sit this one out. There’s still some bad blood between them—no sense stirring things up.”
Queenie shook her head in admiration. “Aurora, I wish I had your composure. If I were in your shoes, I don’t think I could be so calm. After all, her mother was responsible for your mother’s death.”
A shadow crossed Aurora’s face. “My mother’s death was just an accident. Maybe Stella’s mother had nothing to do with it. And, whatever happened, Stella herself is innocent. My father and my three brothers have always treated me well. People have to look ahead, not spend their lives trapped in old grudges.”
Queenie frowned slightly. “But last time, when we were kidnapped by that oil tycoon, it may have been Stella’s doing—a way to get at us without getting her hands dirty.”
Aurora’s lashes fluttered. “My father explained all that. Stella wasn’t involved—it was just a case of mistaken identity with the oil tycoon and the financier. Stella didn’t set us up.”
“You’re too trusting, Aurora—” Queenie started to say, but Aurora cut her off.
“All right, Queenie. It’s almost time—we should head downstairs. I invited Haynes as well; he’ll be coming tonight.”
At the mention of Haynes, Queenie’s eyes lit up. She’d never had the chance to properly meet him, and Aurora’s birthday party was the perfect opportunity.
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