Maisie took a deep breath and said coldly, "I don't need it."

"Maisie—"

"I've got work to do. If there's nothing else, I'll hang up," she said before Cindy could respond, then disconnected the call.

However, in the quietness of the late hours that night, Maisie tossed and turned, unable to sleep. She recalled how, from childhood to now, Cindy's warmth toward her felt like an act of charity, sparing only a tiny bit of warmth for her when neither Owen nor Nicole needed it.

She remembered being bullied at school, with no one at home standing up for her. Her classmates mocked her for being a child who was not cared for. She was met with a torrent of scolding when she went home and told Cindy about it. Cindy only ever blamed her for being troublesome.

She also recalled the first time she got her period. She was frightened and ran to Cindy in tears. Instead of comfort, Cindy's immediate reaction was, "Disgusting! Wash your stained clothes yourself!"

Since then, she hadn't confided in Cindy about anything.

everyone. When

submissive didn't bring

about it, tears streamed down her

Cindy didn't give up. Instead, she showed more concern. She called Maisie

treating you well? Is he serious this time? He won't abandon you like last time,

responded

there was a victorious smile on Cindy's face. She knew that Maisie's biggest weakness was her soft heart and strong sentiments. If Maisie truly wanted to draw a line with

the phone, it indicated that the barrier in her

Cindy's age. They gathered every day, discussing mundane daily

food to prevent spoilage, whose child had grown taller, whose daughter-in-law was pregnant, whose old man had

these gossiping elderly ladies were irritating, but this common, down-to-earth atmosphere made Maisie often

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