Rosalind White stared at Cecilia Vaughn's face for a full ten seconds without looking away, her heart gripped by an invisible fear.
Apricot eyes, black hair cascading down her shoulders, her age about the same as hers, both in their twenties...
Why did Adrian, someone who kept everyone at arm's length and was admired by so many socialites, choose someone who resembles her instead of anyone else?
Is it a coincidence?
Or...
A terrifying possibility popped into Rosalind's mind. She took deep breaths, but the panic in her eyes was hard to conceal.
No, that's impossible.
...
Rosalind's gaze was so direct that anyone being stared at like this would feel uncomfortable.
Cecilia furrowed her delicate brows slightly, her voice cool as water as she reminded.
"Miss White? Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something dirty on my face?"
"No... not at all..."
