The morning light filtered softly through the curtains of Charlie's room, gently nudging her awake. As she blinked away the remnants of sleep, Charlie was greeted by the sight of Aunt Carol standing beside her bed, her expression solemn yet determined.

"Miss Charlie... you have to wake up now and get ready... please wear this dress," Aunt Carol's voice broke the silence, her words carrying an unusual urgency.

Charlie sat up, rubbing her eyes as she tried to make sense of Aunt Carol's unexpected presence and request. The dress in Aunt Carol's hands was unlike anything Charlie had ever worn before – an elegant, vintage-inspired gown in pristine white.

Furrowing her brow in confusion, Charlie hesitated before speaking. "Aunt Carol, the dress isn't really my style..."

Before Charlie could voice her protests any further, Aunt Carol interjected, her tone firm yet gentle. "Miss... this dress is specifically picked by your father... you can complain any day but I'm afraid today, you can't."

A sense of bewilderment washed over Charlie as she pondered Aunt Carol's cryptic words. Today was evidently not an ordinary day, and the significance of the dress chosen by her father eluded her.

As Aunt Carol left the room, leaving Charlie alone with her thoughts, a sense of curiosity mingled with apprehension settled over her. What could possibly be happening today that warranted such a departure from the norm? With a furrowed brow and a hint of trepidation, Charlie began to prepare herself for the day ahead, her mind buzzing with unanswered questions.

Charlie put on the dress, feeling its unfamiliar fabric cling uncomfortably to her skin. It didn't fit perfectly, and every movement seemed to be met with resistance. Despite her discomfort, Charlie knew she had no choice but to wear it.

Descending the stairs with hesitant steps, Charlie's discomfort was palpable, evident in the way she fidgeted with the fabric of her dress. 

Meanwhile, Serena sat perched on the stairs, her gaze fixed on Charlie's descent. Though she had been hesitant to leave the safety of her room, especially with Cornelius present in the mansion, Serena couldn't ignore the pull to be there for her Charlie.

Serena couldn't help but notice Charlie's discomfort with the dress she was wearing.

"Charlie!" Serena's voice cut through the silence, filled with genuine concern as she called out to her.

"Hmm?" Charlie turned to face Serena, her expression a blend of uncertainty and resignation.

"Is it uncomfortable?" Serena's question was soft, laced with empathy as she observed Charlie's discomfort.

"Yeah, a little," Charlie admitted, her discomfort evident in the way she shifted awkwardly in her dress.

"Okay, come here for a second... I'll help you adjust it," Serena offered, her voice gentle and reassuring.

A sense of relief washed over Charlie as she approached Serena, grateful for her comforting presence. With gentle hands, Serena began to adjust the dress, her touch light and careful as she worked to alleviate Charlie's discomfort.

As Serena's fingers deftly moved to adjust the fabric, Charlie couldn't help but blush at the intimacy of the moment. Despite the discomfort of her dress, Charlie found solace in Serena's presence, her heart fluttering at the thought of their close proximity.

'Isn't this wifey material?' Charlie's mind whispered teasingly, a hint of amusement dancing in her thoughts as she savored the warmth of Serena's touch.

"Done... feeling better?" Serena asked, her concern evident in her voice.

Charlie nodded gratefully, a small smile lighting up her face. "Yes, thank you! I'll head out now..."

As Charlie made to leave, Serena reached out and gently took her hand, her expression filled with genuine concern. "Charlie..."

Charlie turned back to face Serena, her brows furrowing slightly in confusion. "Yes?"

"Go early and come back early, okay? I'll wait for you..." Serena's words were laced with worry, her eyes reflecting her deep concern for Charlie's well-being.

Charlie was taken aback by Serena's earnest plea, not fully understanding the depth of Charlie's anxiety. Nevertheless, she responded with a reassuring smile and a comforting gesture, gently patting Serena's head. "Don't worry, I'll come back early and I'll be fine..."

"Um," Serena murmured softly, her heart heavy with unspoken fears and hopes as she watched Charlie leave.

Serena watched Charlie walked away... Her concern grew even more... 

'How could she be so relax on this day?' Serena asked herself.

The air in the Vanderbilt household carried a weight of somber remembrance, for today marked a solemn occasion – the birthday of Charlie's late mother. It was a day etched into the collective memory of everyone in the mansion, a day marked by Charlie's tears, feverish grief, and overwhelming fear. Each year, on this melancholic anniversary, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken sorrow, as the family braced themselves for the inevitable wave of emotions that would wash over Charlie once more.

Charlie entered the luxurious SUV, her father already seated inside, his expression unreadable as he stared out of the tinted windows.

Charlie's voice wavered as she addressed her father, her curiosity piqued by their early departure.

"Dad, where are we going today? It's too early..." she inquired, glancing at him with a furrowed brow.

Cornelius's eyes darkened with solemnity, his gaze piercing as he responded.

"Charlie... you can forget everything but never forget about your mother... not after she died giving birth to you," he said, his words laden with the weight of their shared loss.

'So it was Charlie's mother birthday today...' Charlie thought.

"Sorry, Dad... I've been so focused on school these days..." Charlie murmured.

Cornelius's gaze softened slightly, his eyes reflecting a mixture of sorrow and longing.

"It's okay, Charlie... I understand. But today is a special day, we're going to visit your mother's resting place," he explained, his voice tinged with sadness.

As they arrived at the memorial park, Charlie couldn't shake off the strange disconnect she felt. While she understood the significance of this day for the original Charlie's family, she couldn't help but feel detached from the emotions that were supposed to accompany such occasions. After all, the woman they were commemorating wasn't her real mother; she had merely transmigrated into the body of the original Charlie. Nevertheless, Charlie maintained a facade of sadness, her expression mirroring the grief that surrounded her.

As Charlie's gaze fell upon the tombstone engraved with the name "Victoria Churchill Vanderbilt," a wave of solemnity washed over her. Victoria Churchill Vanderbilt—she had heard the name countless times within the confines of the Vanderbilt Mansion, seen her image immortalized in numerous portraits adorning the walls. In those depictions, Victoria appeared regal, her beauty and elegance transcending time. Yet, here she lay, beneath the cold stone marker, her existence reduced to memories and whispers of a life once lived. Though Charlie had no personal connection to Victoria, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of a life cut short.

As Cornelius placed the flowers delicately on Victoria's grave, his voice carried a tender warmth as he addressed his late wife.

"Vicki, I'm here again with our daughter," he spoke softly, his words tinged with both longing and sadness. "Don't worry about us, we are doing fine. Are you doing okay, wherever you are?"

His voice faltered slightly at the end, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his tone as he gazed at the tombstone before him. Despite the passage of time, the pain of loss still lingered, a silent echo of the love they once shared.

As Charlie observed Cornelius's gestures at the grave, a conflict of emotions stirred within her.

'Well, at least he looks like a doting husband,' she begrudgingly acknowled