'Beatrix. How could she forget?'
Winter's breath hitched the moment recognition struck. She stepped out of the car without a second thought, hurrying toward the commotion at the gates where the guards were holding back a disheveled woman.
Beatrix.
Her presence was like a storm—wild, grief-stricken, and completely unhinged.
The second Beatrix's eyes locked onto Winter, something snapped. She shoved past the guards with a guttural cry, her face twisted in anguish and fury.
"You bitch!" she screamed. "Because of you, I lost my daughter!"
Her voice cracked under the weight of raw grief. It wasn't just an accusation—it was a mother's devastation, weaponized. The news of Diana's death had clearly broken something inside her.
Winter froze, stunned by the venom in Beatrix's voice, but before the older woman could reach her—
Kalix was already there.
