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That couldn't possibly be his mother. Something like that was impossible...

“This table belongs to Nicolaj,” Miles protested.

“All the more reason to leave it in one piece,” the woman said seriously, taking a deep breath.

She seemed so transparent with her emotions, unlike the other DeLoughreys, who always looked like walking mass murderers in press photos.

“Besides, you should show your best side here.” She turned to me. “We have guests. Very unusual ones, though.”

It didn't sound hostile or suspicious. But what was it then? Actual curiosity?

The woman stepped toward me, and I automatically stepped back.

She held out her hand to me.

“Camille DeLoughrey.”

Everything in me wanted to return the greeting, but it was just as wrong as being in this place at all.

Where had I gotten myself into?

Nevertheless, I took her hand.

If it weren't for the black glove, I would have felt her deathly coldness.

Goosebumps ran down my spine.

“You're an Esadowa,” the woman nearly whispered, as if I were a zoo animal, and I felt like paralyzed.

She knew the Esadowas, even though they had left this island almost twenty years ago and no one in Blairville seemed to remember them.

These lands had once been theirs.

“May I introduce Emely Copeland?” Miles said, much too theatrically. “The niece of the Vanderwood director.”

Camille's eyes widened with surprise.

“A Copeland...”

She probably really did think I was a zoo animal. Only that this was supposed to go differently. She was supposed to hate me, glare at me with her red eyes, and tell me that I had no business being here and that the DeLoughreys would destroy my family very soon.

Instead, she just gave a soft smile.

The smile disappeared instantly when she turned to Miles, and there was something quick-tempered about it. This woman seemed so... lively. And yet somehow composed.

“Is this how you present yourself to the Copelands, Miles?” She shook her head, grabbed the briefcase she had discreetly leaned against the table leg, and walked around the table, her gait elegant. “I'm disappointed.” She sighed slightly theatrically. “As if our family's reputation wasn't already bad enough in their eyes.”

I stared after her in disbelief.

“They hate us,” Miles protested. “Should I butter them up?” He laughed dryly and glanced mischievously at me. “Or leave a bone on their doorstep?”

Both Camille and I looked at him in disbelief, Camille appearing somewhat shocked.

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed. “Miles!” She pointed at me. “She’s present.”

Miles was about to reply when the door swung open, and Mrs. Hudgington returned. Her arms were empty, but Vivienna's were laden with files.

“Everything okay?”