When His Perfect Mask Shattered I Awoke (Anneliese) novel Chapter 523

**TITLE: Created 523**

Gianna flew down the staircase, her heart racing as if it were trying to escape the turmoil within her. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, each drop a testament to the emotional storm brewing inside. She flung herself into her mother Wendy’s arms, much like a child desperately seeking refuge after a day filled with unrelenting harshness at school.

“Mom! I was bullied!” she cried out, her voice thick with raw emotion, a mixture of sorrow and indignation.

Wendy inhaled deeply, her instincts as a mother kicking in. She reached for a tissue, her hands trembling slightly as she dabbed at Gianna’s tear-stained face, her heart aching at the sight of her daughter’s distress.

“What happened, sweetheart?” she asked, her voice a gentle balm, trying to create a sanctuary where Gianna could pour out her feelings without fear of judgment.

“It’s Jonathan,” Gianna replied, her voice quaking with righteous anger. “He didn’t even bother to ask me what really happened—he just told me to apologize to Anneliese! And then he snapped at me like I was the one who did something wrong!”

Gianna’s eyes were wide and red, a blend of hurt and frustration swirling in her innocent expression. It was a childlike pout that made it nearly impossible for Wendy to maintain her composure, even though she could sense Gianna was venting her grievances.

Wendy placed a comforting hand on her daughter’s back, forcing a smile that was tinged with helplessness. “But, honey, you have to admit that you might have crossed a line today,” she said gently, trying to steer Gianna’s perspective without dismissing her feelings.

“I was just standing up for India! You don’t understand, Mom,” Gianna insisted, her voice rising with fervor. “She cares so much about Jonathan! They’re practically engaged! Why should Anneliese just waltz in, act like she’s the star of the show, and have no shame at all?”

“Gianna!” Wendy’s voice sliced through the air, sharp and cold, her usually gentle demeanor faltering as a frown creased her brow.

Gianna froze, taken aback. Her mother rarely raised her voice; she was typically the calm anchor in their often-stormy lives.

Pulling away from Wendy’s embrace, Gianna turned and clung to Aunt Pepper, her sulking demeanor evident as she buried her face in her aunt’s side, seeking the comfort that felt more accessible in that moment.

“Aunt Pepper…” she murmured, her voice barely audible, a plea for solace.

Pepper gently stroked Gianna’s hair, her touch a soothing balm as she spoke softly. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Your mom isn’t really mad at you. She just had a passing thought—nothing more. No need to cry.”

She glanced at Wendy, her expression a blend of understanding and concern. “Wendy, you know how Gianna is. Standing up for her cousin isn’t a crime. She’s just a little spoiled, and throwing a temper tantrum isn’t the end of the world.”

“It’s New Year’s! How can you let your own daughter cry over someone you’ve met only once?” Pepper continued, her voice rising slightly. “Sure, Gianna made a mistake, but let’s not pretend Anneliese is a saint. If she were truly decent, Gianna wouldn’t be in tears right now.”

Gianna tightened her grip on Pepper, her small face flushed with anger and defiance. She refused to look at Wendy, her stubbornness palpable.

Wendy felt the sting of those words, scraping against old wounds that had never fully healed. A dull ache throbbed in her head, and her chest felt constricted as memories surged forth unbidden.

Seeing Gianna’s tears softened her heart, despite her earlier frustration. “Gianna, I realize I was too harsh,” Wendy admitted, her tone shifting to one of gentleness, vulnerability creeping into her words. “You’ve always adored that ruby set I collected, haven’t you? I’ll give it to you as a New Year’s gift.”

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