My Evil Stepmother, The Comedic Terror

Previously

…The words hung in the air, a veiled threat and a chilling acknowledgment. I met her gaze, my heart pounding, but my expression remained carefully neutral. The game, I knew, was far from over. And Mr. Abernathy, in his well-meaning bewilderment, had merely been another pawn in Seraphina’s elaborate, terrifying play. But for me, his unwitting involvement had offered a precious, fleeting moment of clarity – a reminder that even in the most outlandish performances, there were always cracks in the facade, always truths waiting to be unearthed. And I was becoming increasingly adept at finding them.