Estelle was sitting at Celeste’s desk, flipping through some case files, trying to focus despite the constant distraction of Celeste lingering in her thoughts. Her internship had taken a strange and intense turn, and it felt like the lines between work, personal life, and something else entirely had blurred beyond recognition.
The office was quiet, with Celeste having stepped out for a meeting. Estelle took the opportunity to catch up on her work, the silence almost comforting. But the calm didn’t last long.
The door swung open abruptly, and a tall woman, elegant but with a sharpness that made Estelle’s skin prickle, strode into the office. She looked to be in her late sixties, her posture rigid and her expression cold. Dressed in an impeccably tailored suit, her silver-gray hair was swept back into a severe bun, and her sharp eyes—so much like Celeste’s—raked over the office before landing on Estelle.
“And who are you?” the woman demanded, her voice crisp and cutting, with an air of authority that made Estelle sit up straighter.
Estelle blinked, taken aback by the sudden intrusion. “Uh, I’m Estelle,” she managed, standing quickly. “I’m working with Celeste—”
The woman’s sharp hand cut through the air, silencing Estelle before she could finish. “I didn’t ask for your life story,” she snapped, her gaze narrowing. “I asked why you are sitting at my daughter’s desk.”
Estelle froze for a second, her stomach twisting at the woman’s tone. Her eyes flicked to the door, hoping Celeste would appear any moment to explain, but no such luck. Taking a breath, Estelle squared her shoulders. This woman had to be Celeste’s mother, though the harshness in her eyes made Celeste’s usually cool demeanor seem almost soft by comparison.
“I’m her intern,” Estelle said, her voice as polite as she could manage. “I was just catching up on some work while she’s out.”
Celeste’s mother’s eyes narrowed further, her lips curling into a disapproving line. “An intern,” she repeated, her voice dripping with disdain. “How quaint.” She glanced at Estelle as though she were little more than an inconvenience, her eyes flicking over her in a way that made Estelle feel small.
Estelle’s frustration bubbled up, but she forced herself to remain calm. “And who are you?” she asked, her tone respectful but laced with her own subtle challenge.
Celeste’s mother raised an eyebrow at the question, her face hardening even more. “I am Eleanor Thorne,” she said, her voice cold and dismissive. “Celeste’s mother. I assume you’re aware of my position.”
The weight of her presence settled heavily in the room, and Estelle felt her irritation rising. Eleanor treated her as if she were beneath notice, a mere speck in the grander scheme of the Thorne family’s legacy.
Before Estelle could respond, the sound of heels clicking down the hallway reached her ears. A voice filled with controlled venom followed, cutting through the tension like a knife.
“Mother, what are you doing here?”
Celeste appeared in the doorway, her expression unreadable, though the tension in her posture was unmistakable. Her sharp eyes locked onto her mother before quickly assessing the situation. Estelle could see the irritation in the way her jaw clenched, though her voice remained calm.
Eleanor Thorne straightened, her posture somehow growing even more rigid. “I thought I’d stop by and see how my daughter is handling things,” she said smoothly, though her tone held an edge of superiority. “I see you’ve taken to surrounding yourself with… interns now.”
Celeste’s eyes darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Estelle is working under me because she’s one of the most promising students in the program,” she said, her voice tight but controlled. “And she’s more than capable of sitting at my desk in my absence.”
Eleanor’s gaze flicked back to Estelle, her eyes narrowing slightly as if reconsidering her. “Is she now?” she asked, though her tone suggested she wasn’t convinced.
Celeste stepped further into the room, positioning herself between her mother and Estelle, the tension thick in the air. “Mother, this is my office. If you have business here, I suggest you speak to me directly, not my staff.”
The way Celeste said staff made it clear she didn’t see Estelle as just that, but Eleanor didn’t seem to care. She merely raised an eyebrow and offered a cold smile.
“Well, it’s good to know you’re keeping things… under control,” Eleanor said, her voice calm but laced with hidden judgment. She gave Estelle one final, dismissive glance before turning back to Celeste. “I trust you’ll handle things properly.”
“I always do,” Celeste replied, her voice like ice.
Without another word, Eleanor turned on her heel and strode out of the office, leaving a thick tension hanging in the air.
As the door clicked shut, Estelle let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She glanced at Celeste, unsure of what to say after witnessing the icy exchange.
Celeste, for her part, remained silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on the door where her mother had exited. Then, with a long, controlled exhale, she turned to Estelle, her expression softening just slightly.
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” Celeste said quietly, the vulnerability she usually hid showing for just a moment.
Estelle shook her head, offering a small smile. “It’s fine. I didn’t expect… that.”
Celeste gave a slight, humorless laugh, running a hand through her hair. “No one ever does.”
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