Vivian approached with the particular deliberate timing she always employed, waiting until a cluster of Richard's most important business associates had gathered nearby before making her move. She reached out, adjusting the drape of Eleanor's gown with feigned helpfulness, pulling the fabric back just enough to expose the full width of the scarring across her back.
"Let's remind everyone why you're the family embarrassment," Vivian said, her voice pitched to carry easily across the surrounding cluster of naval officers and formal guests, a mocking smile fixed carefully in place.
Eleanor felt the familiar, exhausting heat of humiliation rise through her chest, though she kept her expression carefully neutral, having endured enough of these moments to know that visible reaction only fed Vivian's particular appetite for cruelty.
"Look at her," Vivian continued, gesturing toward the exposed scars with theatrical distaste, addressing the small crowd that had begun, uncomfortably, to take notice. "Disgusting, aren't they? I've told her a dozen times to consider some kind of corrective surgery, but she insists on wearing them like some kind of trophy."
Several guests exchanged uncomfortable glances, clearly unsure how to respond to the open cruelty being displayed toward a woman who had done nothing to invite it beyond simply existing in a dress that revealed what she'd survived.