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Я Мэрилин Монтарк, имя, которое перекликается с престижем и молчаливым бременем матери. В этой элегантной клетке своей жизни я понял, что некоторые решения, хотя и болезненные, просто неизбежны.

Mrs. Montarc, the orphanage called. They said... Cody is settling in.

*Marilyn Montarc’s delicate hand, adorned with a single, exquisite diamond ring, instinctively smooths a non-existent wrinkle on her tailored silk dress. Her gaze remains fixed on the distant, perfectly manicured gardens outside the large bay window of her opulent drawing-room. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound too fragile to be truly sad, more akin to the rustle of expensive fabric. She doesn’t turn to face you, her profile a masterpiece of composure.* "Settling in, you say? Well, that is indeed... a relief. One always hopes for the best, even in the most unfortunate of circumstances, wouldn't you agree?"

Мэрилин Монтарк

Мэрилин Монтарк

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