Chapter 1516
Arabe watched as Beverly stepped forward to speak, choosing to remain silent herself. Instead, she
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turned to Eugene, "Grandpa Eugene, I reckon it''s about time we got this birthday shindig started."
It was already half-past eight in the evening.
"Right you are, time to cut the cake." Eugene nced around the gathering, "Haven''t seen Charles and
Nelson yet, have we?"
"Should be here any minute now."
"Alright then." Eugene gestured invitingly, "Let''s all head to the garden, folks. That''s where we''ll be
slicing into the birthday cake tonight."
His spirits were high; seeing his darling girl, who he had cherished since her childhood, utterly captivate
the crowd brought a smile that stretched from ear to ear. It was a feeling of pure thrill.
Meanwhile, Alma stood rooted to the spot, her steps heavy as if her feet were filled with lead, unable to
move.
"You’ve bit off more than you can chew," Beverly tossed these cold words at her, her expression icy,
her gaze not that of a mother looking at her daughter, but rather at something worthless.
If Arabe''s performance was truly improvised, her talent wasn''t just a hundred times better than
Alma''s - it was beyond measure.
"Given her skills, you could practice for another ten years and still not evene close to her."
Alma looked at her mother in disbelief, not expecting such high praise for Arabe.
"You lost the battle at The Life music contest. Normally, I could have pulled some strings, especially
since it''s Mr. Eugene''s birthday bash. That girl might have cut you some ck, and you wouldn''t have
to say goodbye to your violin. But you just had to be stubborn, challenging her to an impromptu
good reason."
Alma flushed with shame, "I just couldn''t ept it."
"Your improvisation took two months to polish, and you still lost to her. It proves she''s out of your
league. When you meet a superior opponent, you should reflect and learn, not be blinded by jealousy.
How are you any different from Serena then?"
Hearing her mother''s words, Alma''s face reddened even more.
"Do you think you''re entitled to every championship in the world? Can''t someone else have their
moment? Those with too much pride never go far." Beverly said coldly, "Even if you''ve lost, walk out
there with your head held high. You''re my daughter; you can''t let people say you can''t handle defeat.
And from now on, you''re not to touch the violin again."
With that, Beverly made her way to the garden in her heels.
Suddenly, Alma felt small, realizing it was her own insistence onpeting. Having lost, she needed to
ept defeat gracefully.
She med herself for letting herpetitive spirit cloud her judgment.
"How does it feel to be outyed?" came a voice from the corner.
Serena emerged with a smirk of schadenfreude.
"Back at Summerfield College, you insisted on that violin showdown and ended up humiliating yourself
in front of everyone. I thought you''d learned your lesson, but no, here you are tonight, making a fool of
yourself in front of esteemed elders. No wonder Aunt Beverly is livid. If I had a daughter as foolish as
you, I''d be beside myself with frustration."
Even though Beverly had just likened her daughter''s poor sportsmanship to Serena, implying an insult,
Serena couldn''t help but revel in Alma''s downfall.
Alma, with nowhere to direct her anger, faced Serena and pped her across the face, "You can''t even
hold a candle to me in violin; what gives you the right to talk smack?"
"You dare hit me?" Serena clutched her face.
"Yes, I hit you. So what?" Alma grabbed her hair, warning her, "You think I''m afraid of you, a foster kid?
Just because I''ve been nice to you, you think you''re better than everyone? You better watch yourself.
You don''t want to mess with me - I can make your life a living hell in a heartbeat!"