Chapter 3: The Diamond-Clad Viper

Across the hall, carving a path through the crowd like an icebreaker through a frozen sea, was Victoria. She was the embodiment of everything Eleanor silently abhorred about modern high society. Draped in a striking black, one-shoulder gown, Victoria’s most prominent feature was not her attire, but the aggressive, glittering weight of the diamond collar wrapped around her neck. She moved with a jagged, nervous energy, her eyes constantly darting around the room, assessing who was worthy of her attention and who was beneath her contempt.

Victoria was a woman whose entire identity was tethered to her perceived status. She demanded deference not because of what she had achieved, but because of what she owned and who she had married. Her interactions were rarely conversations; they were interrogations designed to establish dominance. As she scanned the room, her gaze fell upon the quiet woman in the wheelchair. To Victoria, Eleanor did not register as a person of substance; she registered as an obstacle. An old, insignificant woman taking up prime space in a hallway that Victoria believed belonged exclusively to the vibrant, the wealthy, and the relevant.