"Clearly, we don't. She's far skinnier than me." Fallyn's words were deliberate, each syllable a measured strike, highlighting the difference Eva had tried so carefully to mask. "Maybe you should try to add some flesh. After all, you're not going back to acting, are you?"
The words landed like ice. Eva's fingers tightened, her posture stiffened, and for the first time, the carefully curated aura of control she always carried faltered.
"No. I'm not leaving acting," Fiona replied, her voice quiet, soft even but every inflection was iron, unwavering, a silent declaration of autonomy.
Eva's nails dug into her own hands, her voice snapping. "What do you mean?"
Fiona didn't flinch. She stepped closer, just enough to let her presence dominate the room without raising her voice. "Mom, we'll discuss it tomorrow morning. And you" Her eyes sharpened, unblinking, icy, "you don't need to worry about Mr. Thames."
