She was quietly sobbing, the picture of someone who’d just suffered the world’s greatest injustice. In any ordinary family, everyone would be fussing over her, trying to soothe her hurt feelings, desperate to make up for all the years she’d
supposedly missed out on.
But this was the Tate family.
The Tates‘ faces were utterly unmoved as Ileana Morton put on her little one–woman show. Not a flicker of sympathy, not a word of comfort.
After seventeen years living among the Tates, Alessia’s temperament had inevitably picked up some of their coldness. Watching Ileana’s delicate, pitiful act, Alessia found her interest fading fast. In fact, after a long journey, the faint sound of those sniffles was starting to get on her nerves.
“Dad. Mom.” Alessia withdrew her gaze.
“Sit down,” Scott Tate said. Alessia obeyed, slipping into a chair just as Mae appeared with a tray, setting down a cup of tea in front of her.
Alessia took a delicate sip. The fragrance of black tea bloomed on her tongue, soothing her nerves and smoothing some of the tension from her shoulders.
“This must be… my sister, right?” Ileana finally dropped the act when no one paid her any attention. In an instant, she switched tactics: shoulders slumping, lashes fluttering with wounded innocence. She was quick to play the underdog, eyes wide and mournful, a posture designed to elicit sympathy, to make others want to stand up for her.
Unfortunately, her performance was so painfully obvious that none of the three Tates responded.
a moment, the air in the room seemed
almost laughed. As she set her cup
raised brow.
features. She was attractive in
smile. She had a decent sense of Ileana’s personality already–just as the
1/2
15-35
with the
information on your biological parents.” Scott
family for you–no warmth, no pretense. They valued time, because time meant
picked up the folder, slender fingers flipping through the pages with unhurried grace. From the moment she’d entered the house, everything about her spoke of poise. After all, she’d been raised by the Tates. If she and Ileana stood
her parents‘ basic information. Alessia skimmed them, and her earlier suspicions grew
looking for me now, she thought, but said nothing aloud. Instead, she casually
when she saw the photograph. She let out a long breath. “Well, looks like
future. Ileana lowered her head, hiding the smile tugging at her lips. When she looked up
parents aren’t well–off. Please
sounds strange.” Alessia didn’t bother
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