CHAPTER 7: Sign Here, Miss Hart

Whitaker slid the gold pen away from Celeste’s red folder and placed it beside August’s sealed document.
“There is one signature required tonight,” he said.
Celeste stepped forward. “Isabella, do not be dramatic.”
The old command almost worked.
Almost.
For years, Isabella had softened herself to survive her mother’s rooms. She spoke gently. She accepted smaller chairs. She apologized for truths that made powerful people uncomfortable.
She had mistaken that softness for weakness only because everyone around her had benefited from the mistake.
But her cheek still burned, and August’s seal was under her hand.
She looked at Celeste.
“You slapped me because you thought the room belonged to you.”
Celeste said nothing.
Isabella opened the folder and found the signature line waiting at the bottom of the acceptance page.
Her fingers shook once before they steadied.
Then she signed her name.
The pen moved softly across the paper.
No one applauded. No one breathed easily.
When she finished, Whitaker took the document and said, “Effective immediately.”