The following afternoon, Penelope approached Lillian again, this time holding a thick envelope sealed with wax. She extended it with a smile that suggested generosity rather than malice.
“I am getting married this Saturday,” she said. “The ceremony will be held at Seabrook Estate. Formal attire is required. I thought it would be inspiring for you to attend.”
Her pause was deliberate.
“Just make sure people do not mistake you for the catering staff,” she added softly.
Laughter followed, measured and restrained, as if it had been rehearsed. Lillian accepted the envelope without comment, her fingers trembling despite her effort to remain composed. She understood immediately what the invitation represented. It was not kindness. It was a public test designed to expose her, to turn her discomfort into entertainment.