Teresa''s gaze shifted to Yvonne, now filled with suspicion.
Yvonne met her stare without flinching, her voiceced with sarcasm.
"Fighting? Who needs to learn?" She pointed a finger at Queena. “Her biological mother... in the sweltering summer, she''d make me stand under the zing sun. If I fainted from the heat, she''d just throw a bucket of cold water on me. In the dead of winter, she''d make me kneel in the snow. If I passed out from the cold, same thing— a bucket of cold water to wake me up. I guess you could say my year-round training forged me into an unbeatable warrior."
The biting sarcasm in her words unexpectedly brought tears to Teresa''s eyes. As much as she looked down on Yvonne, this was the daughter she had carried for nine months. The thought of her being abused so cruelly was something even she couldn''t ignore.
But before Teresa could say anything, a soft whimpering sound filled the room.
Queena''s shoulders were shaking as she began to sob.
"I''m so sorry, sister, I''m so sorry! I never knew they were like that! How could I have parents like them? Waaah...”
She cried so tragically it was as if her own mother had just died.
“Queena, don''t me yourself. It''s their sin, it has nothing to do with you," Teresa said, instinctively pulling Queena into aforting embrace as she saw her pale,
tear-streaked face.
Yvonne reflexively stuck a finger in her ear, her brow furrowed in annoyance.
"Crying, crying, what are you crying for? If anyone should be crying here, it''s me!" Yvonne''s sharp voice cut through their tender mother-daughter moment.
"While you were being spoiled by my parents and my brother, I was being beaten with a stick by your biological mother. While you were attending a prestigious school, your mother was cutting up my school uniforms so I couldn''t go. From the day I was born, I never had enough clothes to wear or food to eat. Meanwhile, you''re draped in designer clothes, pampered and perfect. So what exactly are you crying so miserably about? Are you expecting me to apologize to you? Tofort you? Does that seem appropriate to you?"
Yvonne''s words hung in the air, leaving Teresa and Queena frozen with stunned expressions. Even Mrs. Young and her daughter Rachel
afong with Mrs Ward and Edin, Mits looked deeply ufortable.
"Mrs. Spencer, that child has certainly been through enough," Mrs. Young said, finally speaking a word of sense. If she were my daughter, my heart would be breaking for her." She then grabbed her own daughter Rachel by the ear and scolded her harshly. "Who told you to bully your ssmates? Just wait until we get home."
Mrs. Young dragged her daughter away, still muttering under her breath.
"Well, I... I have things to attend to as well. We should be going," Mrs. Ward said, quickly making an excuse and hurrying her own daughter out the door.
Suddenly, the only people left in the vast living room were Yvonne, Teresa, Queena, and the maids.
"Yvonne..." Teresa began, her voice hoarse, as if she wanted to say something
more.
But Yvonne had no interest in hearing her empty apologies. They weren''t sincere anyway. Besides, the girl who would have cared was already dead.
"I''m tired. I''m going back to my room."
Yvonne went upstairs and didn''te down again until dinner.
George was home, his face as dark as a thundercloud. He had clearly been informed of the day''s events.
Yvonne paid him no mind, casually taking her seat and signaling for a maid to pour her a cup of water.
"You little monster, all you know how to do is cause trouble!" George bellowed, pointing his finger at "You are going to give me Ms.
Smith''s phone right now, ani
then
you''reing with me to the Smith family to apologize. If you do that T will pretend today never happened. Otherwise..."
Yvonne took a sip of water, then, without warning, mmed the delicate porcin cup onto the floor. It shattered with a loud crack, cutting George''s threat short.