"Oh, go ahead and decide whatever you want. You only called me over to go through the motions anyway. Whether I agree or not, you'll tell the family—and Granddad—that I was the one who gave up my shares."
Seren's voice was flat and emotionless.
Carla tried to smooth things over, blinking her wide, innocent eyes. "Sis, maybe don't talk back to Mom, okay?"
But Seren had already laid bare the very thing Zena was trying so hard to hide.
Zena had always cared about appearances, but now her own daughter was tearing down that façade in front of everyone.
Hearing Carla jump in only made Zena angrier. She jabbed her finger at Seren's face and snapped, "You have no respect for your elders! How dare you!"
"I'm only telling the truth," Seren replied coolly, refusing to back down. She'd never tolerated scolding for faults that weren't hers, especially when the accusations were made up to begin with.
Lips pressed together, eyes clear and unwavering, she stood her ground with quiet defiance.
A fleeting smirk flickered in Carla's eyes. What's the use of being so proud, she seemed to think. In the end, you'll have to bow your head and give in like everyone else.
Just then, a deep, commanding voice cut through the tension. "The one being disrespectful here is you!"
From the entryway, Old Mr. Rutledge strode in, dressed in his usual black sweats and walking with surprising vigor for a man his age.
Zena blinked, taken aback. "Dad? What are you doing here?"
He let out a low scoff. "Am I not allowed to come to my own house?"
He made his way to the living room and settled into his favorite armchair, fixing Zena with a piercing stare. "If I hadn't come, I wouldn't have seen how you treat your own father! Did I not make myself clear all those years ago? Those shares are for Seren—no one else. Not even you!"
His meaning couldn't have been plainer: he was taking Seren's side.
Seren felt her eyes sting with emotion. She'd always known her grandfather had a soft spot for her.


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