Chapter 177 Prison Of Politeness

• *Sandra’s POV*
• As I slouched into that velvet chair, teacup in hand, I could feel a yawn sneaking up on me. The room was drowning in pastels and floral overload—like someone decided to make “elegance” as suffocating as possible.
• "Do sit up straight, dear," Mrs Ingram muttered through barely parted lips, eyes locked on the hostess across the room. She sat beside me like royalty, oozing the kind of grace I could only dream of faking.