She Turned Her Grief Into Wings novel Chapter 45

Just as Shera expected, she easily passed the preliminary round. The moment the results were announced, she was sitting at a street food vendor with Yara Yorke, grabbing kebabs.

“Here’s to you crushing the prelims!”

The woman sitting across from her was bare-faced, her hair thrown up into a messy bun, wearing an oversized t-shirt. She radiated an effortless, laid-back energy. Even though she was a wealthy heiress, she loved eating at random street-side stalls.

Looking at the beer glass pushed toward her, Shera offered an awkward smile and quietly grabbed her soda.

Ever since her massive hangover the other day, she had sworn off heavy drinking for good.

Yara glanced at the cola in Shera’s hand with obvious disappointment. But remembering Caden Hayes’s icy glare, she reluctantly clinked her glass against it anyway.

“Here’s hoping this competition gets you everything you want, and Evegrace reaches the next level.”

Shera smiled warmly. “Thank you.”

The cold soda slid down her throat, sending a refreshing shiver through her.

She had been so overwhelmingly busy lately that she hadn't enjoyed this kind of grounded, everyday atmosphere in ages.

When she was little, her dad used to take them to the local barbecue spot at the end of the alley. The perfectly marbled lamb skewers sizzling with grease over the fire—the moment she took a bite, it felt like all her worries vanished.

As Shera slid a piece of meat off the skewer with her fork, she listened to Yara complain about her old man.

Honestly, it was always the same few grievances: how he said she was unreliable, the bizarre blind dates he kept setting her up with, or the latest drama her stepmother and stepsister were stirring up.

Shera smiled, handing her finished skewer to Yara, and pulled the empty plate over to grab another.

“You have no idea how biased that old man is. Freya is literally brainless, yet he still transferred her to the creative department. I swear he’s suffering from oxygen toxicity.”

“And the guy he set me up with last week? He was so fussy, I seriously question if he even likes women. Why would I go on a date with a guy who clearly bats for the other team?”

“Seriously, how much longer is Barnaby going to live?”

Shera was listening intently, but when she glanced up, a figure caught her eye.

Helga Sutton?

She was dressed in a tracksuit, stepping out of a car. Despite the baseball cap pulled low over her face, Shera recognized her immediately.

Seeing him turn his head, she quickly ducked her chin, poking at the meat on her plate.

He then walked into a nearby convenience store, bought a few things, and headed back into the residential building.

Their bizarre interaction naturally sparked her curiosity. She couldn't help but wonder what exactly their relationship was.

The intense, borderline obsessive way the man had stared after the car gave her the creeps.

But after a moment, she shook it off. Forget it. She needed to focus on her own life.

The preliminaries were just the beginning. She had researched her competitors, and none of them were going to be easy to beat—especially the one named Rosalie Kerr. Rumor had it she was the apprentice of Felipa Pembroke.

Felipa Pembroke—the exact couture artisan she had asked Rhys to help her find.

The master she had been desperately trying to track down ended up being her opponent's mentor.

How was she supposed to compete with that?

Before she had even stepped onto the battlefield, she already felt the wind knocked out of her sails.