Margaret’s face turned pale as she took in the scene at her doorstep. The bewilderment in her eyes was unmistakable, and for a moment, there was a flicker of vulnerability—a crack in that ever-present shield of superiority she wore like armor.
“Lauren, what is going on here?” she demanded, her voice an octave higher than usual.
I stepped forward, my expression calm but resolute. “Margaret, after what happened yesterday, I’ve decided that it’s no longer safe for you to stay here. This is my house, and I’m asking you to leave.”
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