“She was dramatic,” she said softly.
Charles turned on her, not with fury, but with exhaustion.
“She was eighteen.”
Margaret’s face closed.
Wesley’s voice was low.
“What happened to her?”
Charles reached for the torn note, then stopped before touching it.
“She fell in love with someone my parents considered unsuitable.”
For one strange moment, everyone in the room looked at me.
Not because I was Eleanor.
Because I was a reminder.
Working-class family. Military father. No inherited place at polished tables. The wrong kind of woman, according to people who measured worth in old silver and quiet obedience.
The recognition passed through the room like a current.
Charles saw it too. His eyes moved to mine, and his shame deepened.
“Nora,” he said, “this is not the same.”
I held June closer.
“Isn’t it?”
He looked away.
No one rushed to defend him.
That silence mattered.
WHY THE ABRUPT ENDINGS??? LIKE NO ENDING AT ALL!!!!