Ileana had shed every trace of her sweet, obedient schoolgirl self. Now, she looked downright vicious–voice shrill, eyes cold and menacing. She raked a hand through her hair in frustration, thenshed out, kicking Mae without warning.
Mae nearly copsed to her knees but just managed to steady herself, too scared to utter a word. She hurriedly grabbed Ileana’s backpack, then pulled out the prepared slippers, cing them in front of her while kneeling.
“Can’t you see what needs to be done?” Ileana shot Mae a re, growing more irritable the longer she looked at her. She raised a hand, about to shove the girl again, when footsteps echoed down the hall.
Instantly, the color drained from Ileana’s face. Her pupils contracted, and she jerked her hand behind her back, trembling slightly, the picture of anxiety.
“Dad.” Ileana swallowed hard, not daring to meet Scott’s eyes.
“Mae, bring some tea to the study.”
“Yes, sir.” Mae hung the backpack on a nearby rack and hurried off to the kitchen.
“Come here.” Scott didn’t specify whom he meant, only nced coolly in Ileana’s direction.
Clenching her fists to hide the hatred in her eyes, Ileana trailed after him, careful to
mask her emotions.
Once the door closed behind them, Ileana stood before the desk, head bowed,
unable to meet Scott’s gaze as he sat in the high–backed chair. The silence between them was thick and stifling; neither spoke.
“Dad, when… when did you get back?” Ileana was young, and the oppressive quiet quickly became unbearable. She broke the silence first, her voice thin and
tentative.
Scott tapped his fingers on the desktop, saying nothing. The steady thud–tap, tap, tap–seemed to strike Ileana’s heart with each beat. Her hands began to shake, eyes darting nervously, and a momentter, tears slipped silently down onto the handmade rug at her feet.
“Dad… I’m sorry. I just today was so hard, and I’m so angry,” she stammered.
Scott remained unmoved, his expression unreadable. Ileana could only force herself to continue.
<b>1/2 </b>
<b>14:42 </b>
<b>“</b>Sis… I don’t know why, but she’s always targeting me. She even got the other students to freeze me out. I don’t know what I did to deserve it. Maybe it’s because of my adoptive family. Dad, maybe we should bring her home, too. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t havee back at all, but… I just wanted to find my real parents.”
Tears streamed down her face as she wiped them away with a trembling hand, her small figure shaking, looking utterly pitiful.
“You’re saying Alessia turned the others against you?” For the first time, Scott’s face showed a flicker of interest.
Ileana’s heart leapt; she thought he might finally stand up for her. Still, a twinge of resentment lingered–why was Alessia still “Alessia,” while she was now the one with the Tate name? But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. She nodded emphatically, sniffling.
“Yes… They mocked me for not knowing proper manners. I just wanted to invite my friends and Alessia to the family party–to share with them how happy I was to find my real parents. Instead, she led everyone inughing at me for not knowing the rules.”
She’d grown up pampered by the Mortons, the envy of Crestview High–she’d never known this kind of cold shoulder. The sting was real, and this time, her tears weren’t entirely an act.
“It’s all my fault. I never had the kind of training she did. She’s always so graceful and thoughtful–even when she travels abroad, she brings back gifts for everyone. I can’tpare. And with everything that’s happened to my adoptive family, I suppose it’s only natural for her to feel jealous or unsettled.”
“Alessia lost the support of the Tate family, yet she still has the students at school on her side. Meanwhile, you carry the Tate name, but you’re the one being left out. Don’t you think you should ask yourself why you’re losing to Alessia?”