The instant her third brother opened his mouth, both their father and eldest brother silenced him with sharp reprimands.

Yet when the focus turned to her, Nathaniel Harrington—always rigid and expressionless—pinned Evelyn with an icy glare. His words were clipped, a clear warning for her to stay in line.

"Evelyn Harrington, no matter the history, Aurora is family—not some stranger. The sins of our parents shouldn't poison our generation. Keep that in mind. The Harringtons are already few in number. I won’t tolerate whispers of discord tarnishing our name."

Nathaniel had witnessed enough high-society scandals—illegitimate heirs, switched at birth, every twisted tale imaginable. To maintain order and avoid becoming the elite’s newest joke, he had to set boundaries now.

Harrison Harrington, their father, attempted to soften the tension with a placating smile. "Nathaniel, don’t be so harsh. This is Evelyn’s first day home—no need to overwhelm her with rules. She’ll learn in time."

Then Isaac, the second brother, finally spoke. "Actually, I agree with Nathaniel. It’s better Evelyn understands the expectations now. If she doesn’t know how to conduct herself, she’ll embarrass the Harringtons. And if she becomes the subject of gossip, no respectable match will consider her."

His meaning was clear: Evelyn had returned for the Harrington name, hoping to secure a suitable marriage. After all, the Harringtons stood at the pinnacle of society.

Amy—so young back then—had never imagined the family she yearned for would be like this. She thought sharing a mother with her three brothers would forge an unbreakable bond. Instead, her arrival was met with suspicion and distance.

Aurora, on the other hand, showed no open hostility. But she didn’t extend warmth either. The Harringtons didn’t force sisterly affection—everyone understood the reality. As long as appearances were kept, that was enough.

Still, Amy sensed the subtle shift her presence brought. Her room matched Aurora’s in grandeur. Her meals, clothes, and possessions were identical in quality. The family hadn’t slighted her—everything was meticulously fair. Yet, something intangible was missing.

For months afterward, she and Aurora maintained a polite, detached coexistence.

The atmosphere in the Harrington household never truly lifted.

Connor, her third brother, barely acknowledged her. Even when she greeted him, he acted as if she were invisible. Isaac’s words could be cutting, but at least he wasn’t cruel—when they crossed paths, he’d nod or offer a terse greeting. Nathaniel was rarely home, their interactions brief and formal.

Only Harrison treated her with genuine kindness. He doted on her, checked on her constantly, and often reminisced about her mother.

One evening, he asked softly, "Evelyn, have you ever considered convincing your mother to return to the Harringtons?"

Amy hesitated before answering quietly, "I’ve mentioned it, but..."

Harrison’s eyes brightened. "What did she say? Tell me—anything she wants, I’ll make it happen."

She hadn’t planned to say more. But Harrison was the only one in this house who showed her warmth—her own father.