Here is your culturally localized and novelistic adaptation for a Western audience:
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The guests at the Vaughan family’s manor exchanged uneasy glances as Victor swept in and carried the birthday girl away in his arms.
With the guest of honor gone and the atmosphere soured, there was little point in lingering at this awkward, ill-fated birthday party.
Especially after what had just transpired—Mr. Fitzgerald had made it abundantly clear whose side he was on. The Vaughans had thoroughly fallen out of Victor’s favor.
That was all anyone needed to know. In high society, people flock to the powerful and shun the disgraced; loyalty is as fleeting as a change in the wind.
No one dared to stay a moment longer.
One by one, the guests made their excuses and slipped out.
Within minutes, the once lively manor—filled with the swell of a string quartet and the gentle hum of conversation—emptied into a cold, echoing silence.
The dazzling Northmarch chandelier cast its icy white light over the deserted hall, making the emptiness feel even more piercing and stark.
Just then, the family doctor hurried in through the front doors, medical bag in hand and a team of nurses trailing behind him.
He was moving against the tide of guests fleeing the scene, a late arrival with no idea what disaster had just unfolded.
He barely had time to process how strangely early the party had ended before his professional instincts kicked in. He quickly looked around and called out, “Mr. Vaughan, Eleanor—which of you is hurt?”
Eleanor stood to the side, eyes rimmed red, as if all the strength had been drained from her. She glanced back at Pearl, whose legs were streaked with blood, then over to Prescott, blood streaming from a wound on his head.
She spoke, her voice weary but steady. “Check on Prescott first. See if there’s any serious head injury. Take him to the hospital right away.”
She gathered her shawl around her shoulders, pressed a hand to her throbbing temple, and slowly walked toward the main hall.
Pearl watched as Eleanor turned away, panic flooding her face. She cried out, her voice raw and desperate, “Mom, don’t leave me! I’m sorry, I promise I’ll never do it again. Please don’t abandon me!”
Richard’s brow was furrowed, his eyes dark with a stern, unreadable expression.
After a long, heavy silence, he made up his mind.
“Pearl,” he said, his voice cold, “we’ve indulged your selfishness for long enough. But tonight, you went too far. You’ve disgraced the entire family. If you care nothing for our name, then from this day forward, you will move out. We no longer have a daughter.”
Pearl’s worst fear had finally come true.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)
It takes too long to get to the point. Too much unnecessary in between in all of these books. Too many extra characters, the authors lose the plot after a while....