In the lavish sitting room of the Beaumont mansion, two ladies sat engrossed in a conversation.
The two of them sported the same blonde hair which cascaded in soft waves down their shoulders. Their piercing brown eyes which seemed to be guarded against everyone else but themselves were also of the same hue.
And as it were, their dressing was in sync with that of the room which exuded opulence, with silk draperies framing tall windows that overlooked a manicured gardens.
But sadly, their facial expressions were a great contrast with the warm and welcoming atmosphere created by the decor of the room.
Swaying herself in a white coloured hammock installed in the room, Cory Beaumont angrily tossed popcorn into her mouth, venting her anger on the popcorn from the way she went about chewing it.
Across from her, her mother, Doreen Beaumont, sat elegantly, a thoughtful expression on her face.