I took her hand. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. This isn’t your fault.”

I had no intention of hurting Anna — only of teaching her mother a lesson. But when I saw the fear in her eyes, my anger wavered.

Then Margaret stormed up, furious. “Was this your doing?”

I met her glare evenly. “You thanked my company, Margaret. And my company takes orders from me.”

For a moment, she just stared, speechless, as realization hit her — the “poor aunt” she’d ridiculed was the woman running the entire event.

Anna tugged my sleeve, whispering through tears, “Please… can we fix this?”