Chapter 17

Noelle made her way back to the Spencer residence, lost in thought. Mary was already home from meeting Alan Marshall and had cooked a full spread for dinner. Every dish leaned sweet—just the way Noelle liked it. After days of sour, puckering meals at the Ashford residence, even the memory of the food there made Noelle's stomach churn. Noelle wrapped her arms around Mary. "Mom, you're the best." Mary caught the hurt in Noelle's tone and teased, "What's wrong? The Ashfords are filthy rich. Don't tell me they didn't even let you eat what you wanted." She'd meant it as a joke, but it struck right at Noelle's sore spot. The Ashfords had never flat-out stopped Noelle from eating what she wanted, but Sabrina had insisted that she sit at the table for every meal just to flaunt her place in the family. The dishes on the Ashfords' dining table were Sabrina's way of unsettling Noelle. They were a reminder of where they stood in the Ashford family—Sabrina high above, and Noelle far below.