Chapter 14 - The First Real Meeting
Amelia buzzed her up. When Isabella walked into the apartment, the contrast was jarring. The heiress was wearing simple jeans and a cashmere sweater, desperately trying to dress down, but she still looked like a billionaire standing in a room with peeling wallpaper and second-hand furniture.
Isabella didn't look at the stains on the carpet or the cramped kitchen. She only looked at Amelia.
"I brought pastries," Isabella said awkwardly, holding up a small, elegant box from a French bakery.
Amelia managed a small, genuine smile. "I have terrible tea to go with it."
They sat on the lumpy sofa, eating croissants and drinking cheap chamomile. The initial awkwardness was thick, but as the hours passed, it began to melt. They talked cautiously at first, like bomb technicians navigating a minefield.
Isabella asked about Thomas Miller. Amelia told her about a kind, quiet man who worked too hard, who bought her ice cream when she scraped her knees, and who had loved her desperately despite his crushing guilt.
Amelia asked about their mother. Isabella admitted she knew almost nothing; Evelyn had forbidden anyone from speaking about the woman who was deemed "too weak" to survive childbirth.
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"We were both robbed," Amelia observed quietly. "You had money, but you didn't have a family. You had a warden."
"I'm firing the warden today," Isabella said, her green eyes flashing with a sudden, fierce determination. "And I'm not doing it alone. Come with me."
