CHAPTER 33

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GENEVIEVE

I sank down onto the grass in front of the grave, my white dress billowing out around me. I hadn’t bothered to bring a coat, and the chill seeped into my skin, but I didn’t care.

I had been sitting there for more than two hours now, lost in thought and memories, the cold earth grounding me as my mind spiraled.

I sighed deeply, my breath coming out in a visible puff in the cool air.

“Mama,”

I began, my voice barely a whisper, trembling with the weight of everything I had been holding inside.

“I’ve been fighting so hard… for everything. For you. For me. I’m so tired, Mama.”

My voice broke on the last word, a crack in the dam that had been holding back a sea of grief and frustration.

I told my mother everything—how I was fighting my stepmother, Rosalind, and my conniving stepsisters, Olivia and Emma. I spoke of their constant manipulation, the way they tried to undermine me at every turn, and how I was determined to bring them down.

I was tired of being the pawn in