After dinner<b>, </b>Wendy strolled around the living room, casually critiquing the <b>decor</b>. “Zac, these curtains don’t match the space at all. And this vase–ugh, it shes with everything.”
Then she wrinkled her nose, pointing at the fresh flowers Inside. “Also, I’m allergic to pollen. Can we just get rid of these?”
The curtains were ones Charlotte had picked. The vase was something she had bought. The flower arrangement? One she had put together herself. Wendy was clearly nitpicking on purpose.
<b>Zac </b>barely looked up. “If you don’t like them, pick out whatever you want.” Then, as if to drive his point home, he added, “Since you’re <b>allergic</b>, just toss them<b>.</b>”
Charlotte watched them y their little game, silent and unbothered,
Not her house. Not her problem,
But Wendy mistook her sence for hurt, her eyes shing with smug satisfaction.
“Charlotte, you’ve lost,” she silently remarked.
rs out.”
<b>Zac </b>called for Mrs. Zimmer, “Throw the <b>vase </b>and flowers
Mrs. Zimmer hesitated, stealing a <b>nce </b>at Charlotte before carefully saying, “Mr. Gibson, but Miss Riley bought them…”
Zac’s expression darkened, his voice growing impatient. “And? Do you not understand who owns this house? Who pays your sry?”
Charlotte’s tone was calm<b>. </b><b>“</b><b>It’s </b>fine, Mrs. Zammer. Just toss them.”
With no other choice, Mrs. Zimmer picked up the vase and lett, muttering under her breath. “Ridiculous. The man’s lost his damn mind. And that Wendy girl tooes in, takes over, and suddenly we’re all eating nothing but rabbit food. When is this nightmare going to <b>end</b><b>?</b>”
Meanwhile, in the living room, Wendy clung to Zac’s arm, her voice dripping with honey. “Zac, will youe with me to pick out new curtains tomorrow?
<b>Zac </b>nced at Charlotte, expecting to see jealousy flicker across her face.
But she didn’t react at all.
No irritation. No sulking. No jealousy.
Nothing
A strange frustration churned in his chest.
Why wasn’t she jealous<b>? </b>
He had just thrown out something she <b>had </b>carefully picked, and she didn’t even flinch.
<b>She </b>was always so obedient and easygoing. He had liked that about her. But now, <b>for </b>some reason, it was starting to annoy him.
Maybe a little jealousy wouldn’t be so bad.
Wendy tugged on his ann, “<b>Zac</b>, are you even listening?”
Zac snapped <b>back </b>to the moment. His voice was dull, “Yeah.”
The next day, Wendy made a grand <b>show </b>of redecorating.
She ordered an entire shipment of home decor, directing the delivery workers to rece the curtains and swap out all the furnishings
Charlotte had chosen.
One by one, Charlotte’s belongings were thrown into the trash
<b>When </b>Charlotte returned home, she walked into a half–finished, chaotic mess. Wendy stood there, arms crossed, practically glowing with satisfaction as their eyes met
Charlotte didn’t react.
She barely spared the mess a nce before heading upstairs to her room
She had already packed up everything she nned to take with her. What she was throwing out was <b>already </b>set aside. Only a few daily essentials and a couple of outfits remained.
She <b>had </b>assumed she and Wendy would stay
by out of each other’s way for thest few days.
Clearly, Wendy was determined to push her out by any means necessary.
The night before the trial, Charlotte was in the shower when she suddenly heard the sharp crash of something shattering in her bedroom. Her heart clenched. <b>She </b>quickly rinsed off, threw on her nightgown, and rushed out to check.
The room was empty.
r–scattered In Jagged shards–was the ceramic figurine her mother had left her.
But on <b>the </b>floor-
Charlotte froze.
It had been a birthday gift from when she was twelve, a pale blue puppy she and her mom had painted together at a pottery shop. Their names were even etched on the back
ulse pounding
A furious heat rushed to her head, her pulse
“Who did this?!” she shouted, storming out of the room.
She marched straight to Zac’s bedroom and pounded on the door,
]“Zac! Wendy! Which one of you was in my room?!
The door swung open, revealing Zac’s annoyed face. “What the hell is wrong with you? <b>It’s </b>the middle of the night! Can’t you let people sleep?”
Charlotte’s chest rose and fell rapidly with rage. Her voice was sharp. “Did you go into my room just now?”
going through
Zac frowned. “<b>Why </b>the hell would I go into your room?”
?” His irritation deepened. “Stop making a scene. I’ve been in here g
contracts all night.”
Charlotte’s gaze darkened. “Then it <b>was </b>Wendy.”
Without another word, she spun on her heel and stormed toward Wendy’s room at the end of the <b>hall</b>.
Zat, sensing trouble, followed quickly behind.
Quarlotte mmed her fist against the door. “Wendy! Open <b>up</b>!”
When there was no immediate response, she raised her foot and kicked the <b>door</b>. Bang!
Zar’s brows shot up.
This was not the sweet, mild–mannered Charlotte he knew.
Wendy <b>finally </b>cracked the door open, looking utterly unimpressed. “<b>What’s </b>your <b>problem</b>?”
Charlotte didn’t answer. Instead, she <b>grabbed </b>Wendy’s wrist and <b>dragged </b>her toward her own room
“<b>What </b>the hell?! Let go ofine!” Wendy stumbled, trying to resist, but Charlotte was stronger than she looked.
With a sharp tug<b>, </b>Charlotte pulled Wendy inside and flung her forward.
Wendy lost her <b>bnce</b>, her knee mning into the dresser. “Ow! Are <b>you </b>insane<b>?!</b>” she screeched.
Charlotte’s eyes were Ice. “Did you break my figurine?”
Wendy’s gaze flickered, her lips parting. “I–What are you even talking about? I wasn’t in your room!”
Charlotte stepped closer, her presence suffocating “Really? Because when I stepped out of the shower, I saw a glimpse of a beige skirt at my door.”
Wendy stiffened<b>. </b>“You’re lying! 1—— I wasn’t even wearing beige! I was wearing-“She stopped mild–sentence, her <b>eyes </b>widening in horror at
her own slip–up
Charlotte arched a brow, her tone <b>lethal</b><b>. </b><b>“</b>You were wearing what, Wendy? Oh, let me guess that gray skirt you just changed out of?”
Wendy swallowed <b>hard</b><b>, </b>her throat bobbing “I was just–just looking around
Charlotte’s <b>gaze </b>humed even <b>colder</b>. “Looking around? In my room? For what?”
Wendy opened and closed her mouth, scrambling for an answer
“Enough!” Zac suddenly stepped in front of Wendy, his voice irritated. “Charlotte, <b>stop </b>making a big <b>deal </b>out of nothing. It’s just some cheap little figurine–buy another one and move on! Why are you harassing Wendy?”
SMACK.
A sharp, resounding p filled the air.
Charlotte swing her hand with full force,nding a brutal p across Zac’s <b>face</b>.
Both Zac and Wendy stood frozen in shock
“Get out!” Charlotte roared at Zac, her eyes zing. “This has nothing to do with you! Who the hell do you think you are to forgive her on my
Wendy, who had been standing behind Zac, suddenly shoved him aside and stormed up to Charlotte. Her face was twisted with rage. “Who do you think you are to hit him?!”
SMACK
Another sharp p rang through the room
Charlotte’s voice was cold and unwavering, “<b>You </b>can get
get out too.”
A bright red handprint immediately bloomed across Wendy’s cheek.
She let out a shocked gasp<b>, </b>eyes wide with fury. There was no way she was letting this go.
“You—” Wendy lifted her <b>hand</b><b>, </b>ready to p Charlotte back.
But before she could even make contact, Charlotte grabbed her wrist in a vice grip and yanked her off bnce. With a sharp shove, Wendy stumbled backward, her palmnding directly on the shattered ceramic shards.
“Ahhh!” Wendy’s scream pierced the air as blood instantly welled from the deep cuts in her hand. “My hand! My hand!”
Zac finally snapped out of his daze and <b>rushed </b>to her side. “Wendy! Are you okay?!”
Charlotte looked down at her, her expression utterly devoid of sympathy, “Serves you right. Maybe next time<b>, </b><b>don’t </b>break things that don’t belong to you.”
Zac turned on her, his face dark with anger. “You’ve gone too far, Charlotte!” He gritted his teeth. “Apologize. Now”
Charlotte met his re, unflinching “She should be the one apologizing to me. She broke something irreceable.”
Wendy clutched onto Zacytears spilling down her face as she whimpered, “It hurts so much, Zac… please, take me to the hospital.”
Zac immediately scooped her up in his arms. As he carried her toward the door, he shot Charlotte a furious re. “I don’t want to see <b>you </b>ever again. Get out of my sigh.”
“Fine.” Charlotte’s reply was calm, almost indifferent.
Zar hesitated for a split second. Something about her reaction unsettled him.
But Wendy’s injured hand was still dripping blood onto his shirt, so he turned and stormed out with her.
the front <b>door </b>mmed shut, <b>silence </b>settled over the house.
Charlotte slowly stepped toward the shattered remains of the ceramic <b>figurine </b>and knelt beside it. Her fingers trembled as she reached out to touch the broken pieces.
Tears welled in her eyes <b>and </b>fell, one by one, onto the shards.
“Mom. I’m sorry. I couldn’t protect the gilt you left me. I’m so sorry..
The big house felt cold and empty as Charlotte crouched on the floor, tears streaming down her face.
She was twelve when her mom gut really sick
The kind, gentle woman who <b>always </b>smiled was slowlyding away, getting thinner and weaker with each passing day-
Back then, Charlotte had just started middle school Every day after school, instead of going home, she went straight to the hospital.
She would sit beside her mom, telling her about school, sharing funny stories, and singing the new <b>songs </b>she learned in ss.
.35 Bonus
“Mom, when will you get better?” Charlotte sat by her mother’s hospital bed, her bright eyes holding a quiet sadness.
Her mom had been sick for over six months, and it seemed like she was only getting worse.
Sue Sullivan gently stroked Charlotte’s hair and gave her a tired but wann smile. “The doctor says I’ll be going home soon.
“Really?” Charlotte’s eyes lit up with hope.
“Mm–hmm.” Sur’s face was pale, her body weak, but her gaze was soft and steady. “I’ll be home in time for your birthday.”
<b>“</b>Yay!”
And just like that, Charlotte believed her.
She really thought her mom was getting better.
Butter, she realized that when her mom said she was “going home,” she didn’t mean she was recovering.
She meant the doctors had done all they could. They were sending her home to spend her final days with family and fulfill anyst wishes