The Flower That Grew from Ashes novel Chapter 24

The afternoon charity event was held in the grand penthouse ballroom of the Rivercrest Hotel.

It was an annual luncheon hosted by the Starlight Charity Foundation, and the guest list was exclusively old money and high society.

With Harriet's help, Annelise changed into a wine-red gown prepared for her by the Lehmans.

The cut was heavily conservative—long sleeves, high collar, completely covering every possible inch of skin.

The woman in the mirror looked ashen, her lips devoid of color. The only thing standing out were her eyes, as black as two bottomless vortexes.

Unable to bear it, Harriet grabbed a tube of lipstick.

"Ms. Sargent, please put a little on. You'll look more lively."

Annelise didn't refuse.

A bright dash of red lit up her entire face, acting as the perfect camouflage to bury all her actual emotions.

She was being paraded into the venue by Lizzie like a delicate porcelain ornament representing the Lehman family's flawless reputation.

The moment she stepped into the glittering ballroom, Annelise became the center of attention.

Of course, the attention wasn't on her, but on her status as "Mrs. Hackett Lehman" and her tragic recent "loss of a child."

Countless stares of sympathy, pity, morbid curiosity, and quiet schadenfreude hit her like invisible spotlights from all directions.

Annelise maintained a graceful, slightly fragile, and sorrowful smile throughout it all.

She trailed behind Lizzie, greeting a sea of wealthy socialites whose names she couldn't remember.

Then, she saw Clarissa.

Just as Annelise assumed today's torture would merely be surviving fake socializing with her mother-in-law, Clarissa's appearance delivered a blindsiding "surprise."

Clarissa was dressed in a pure white lace gown. Her hair was draped loosely over her shoulders, her face seemingly free of makeup, with just a hint of redness lingering at the corners of her eyes.

That gentle, modest, utterly pathetic demeanor perfectly embodied the beautiful young widow who had remained devastatingly loyal to her late husband.

She stood right beside Lizzie, intimately clinging to her arm like a fragile vine wrapped around a sturdy oak.

Seeing Annelise, Clarissa's eyes instantly lit up.

She let go of Lizzie, hurried over, and grabbed Annelise's hand.

Her hands were ice-cold, her nails painted with a clear gloss.

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