Chapter 22 Twenty-two

• FLORA’S POV
• I had searched the entire house for my sketchbook, but it seemed to have disappeared into thin air. Panic had slowly settled in my chest. I couldn’t afford to lose it—not now when Vicky was giving me a rare opportunity to showcase my talent. Over the years, sketching had been my solace, something I poured my heart into during those long, quiet hours at the Kensington estate, it was a quiet rebellion against a world that kept telling me to stay small. It was the one thing that belonged to me.
• I remembered once, early in my marriage, when I had dared to show Jayden one of my sketches. I had been so eager to impress him, so hopeful. I had poured hours into that piece, excitedly detailing every seam and curve of the design, ready to show him that I was talented and capable of joining the family’s business. But he hadn’t even glanced at it for more than a few seconds before dismissing it like a used tissue and told me I was wasting my time on irrelevant things. “Who would wear something designed by a fresh college graduate?” he had sneered.