Mileh realized that as long as the Governor and his wife saw her as a "drama queen," Enock's future would remain on the chopping block. She couldn't live with the guilt of him becoming a pariah for her sake. Without telling Enock, she arranged a meeting with his mother, Mrs. Armitage, at a secluded, ultra-private tea house where the elite usually handled their most discreet scandals.
When Mileh entered the private room, the air was frigid. Mrs. Armitage sat perfectly upright, her designer suit crisp and her expression resembling a mask of porcelain. She didn't offer a seat; she didn't even look up from her cup.
"You have five minutes," Mrs. Armitage said, her voice like a thin blade. "My husband would be livid if he knew I was breathing the same air as you."
Mileh sat down anyway, her movements graceful despite the heaviness in her heart. She placed her hands on the table, showing they were empty of the jewels and luxury she was usually associated with.
