“It is,” Evelyn interrupted coldly. “But remember, Catherine, your legacy is not built on moments of weakness. It is built on sacrifice and strength.”
Catherine turned, moving quickly toward the door, each step heavy. As her hand touched the cold brass knob, Evelyn’s voice chased after her, quietly relentless.
“You are not just representing yourself. You represent all of us. Choose wisely.”
Without turning back, Catherine pulled open the door, stepping into the sterile hallway and closing it firmly behind her. She leaned briefly against the cool surface of the wall, allowing herself one moment to breathe, to gather the shattered pieces of her resolve.
Evelyn’s voice echoed in her mind, ruthless and clear. Catherine pushed off the wall, spine straightening and gaze hardening once again. As she walked back toward her office, the Ice Queen mask settled firmly back into place.
She was a Harrington. She had no choice.
Catherine stood at the hospital breakroom counter, her hand gripping a cup of lukewarm coffee. She stared blankly at the steam drifting lazily upward, lost in a heavy fog of thought. Evelyn’s voice echoed in her head, relentless and sharp. Each word had sliced through the careful peace she had started to build, leaving nothing but frayed edges behind.
The door swung open abruptly, jolting Catherine from her trance. She looked up, shoulders instinctively stiffening as Rozbreezed in, wearing that irreverent smile of hers, eyes sparkling with knowing mischief.
"Ah," Roz announced dramatically, pulling out a chair and spinning it around to sit backward, arms resting lazily over the backrest. "There's my favorite victim of maternal interrogation. I heard Mother Dearest has been on a warpath today."
Catherine gave her a flat look, unamused. "I'm not in the mood, Roz."
Roz tilted her head, ignoring the warning entirely. "Oh, come on. You're not even a little amused by how predictably vicious she can be?" She leaned in conspiratorially. "Let me guess, you're distracted, you're emotional, and your priorities are slipping. Stop me if I miss anything."
"Roz," Catherine said sharply, her voice brittle, "enough."
Roz's playful smirk softened into something more serious. "You know she's just bitter, right?"
Catherine raised an eyebrow skeptically, her grip on the coffee tightening. "Bitter about what?"
Roz leaned forward, chin resting in her hand, eyes dancing with amusement and just a hint of sincerity. "Bitter that no one ever wanted her enough to make her question the job. Bitter that no one broke down her precious walls." She paused meaningfully, gaze pointed. "But someone’s breaking down yours, aren't they?"
Catherine felt the sting of Roz's words, her expression carefully blank even as heat rose in her chest. She looked away, jaw tight. "You don't know what you're talking about."
Roz chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Oh, come on. I've never seen you flustered like this. It’s almost cute."
"Stop it, Roz," Catherine snapped, voice sharper than she'd intended.
Roz sighed, pulling back slightly. "You can't hide this, Catherine. Trust me, I’ve tried. Eventually, you’ll have to admitthat someone got under your skin." Roz’s gaze drifted briefly, and her expression softened. "Look at me and Sam. Our dear mother nearly imploded at the thought of a Harrington choosing something beyond career, and yet, here we are."
Catherine's eyes narrowed slightly. "And do you honestly think Mother respects that decision?"
Roz shrugged casually, her voice steady. "I think Mother doesn’t get to decide who we love or how we live. She just pretends she does. At the end of the day, she can disapprove all she likes, but it doesn’t change anything."
Catherine looked away again, a tense silence stretching between them. She hated how transparent she felt under Roz’s probing gaze.
"You can't fix this by ignoring it," Roz added quietly. "Trust me, I know. If someone makes you happy, you don’t owe her an apology."
Catherine opened her mouth to reply, frustration bubbling up, but the door opened again, this time gently, and Olivia stepped cautiously inside. Olivia’s soft eyes darted between her sisters, sensing the charged atmosphere immediately.
"Am I interrupting?" Olivia asked hesitantly, holding a file against her chest protectively.
"Not at all," Roz drawled, standing and stretching theatrically. "Just giving our dear sister a reality check."
Catherine pressed her fingers to her temple, exasperation evident. "Roz was just leaving."
Roz grinned, unapologetic, stepping past Olivia with a wink. "Good luck, Liv. She's all yours."
The door clicked shut behind Roz, leaving Olivia watching Catherine with gentle concern. Slowly, she crossed to the counter and set the file down, leaning against the edge quietly.
"Are you okay?" Olivia asked softly.
