Chapter Nine

"Good that she also realized how useless she is to have around," Bertha mumbled, her voice just loud enough for the others to hear. The words, sharp as glass shards, sliced through the already tense air.

No one flinched— not outwardly, at least. They all knew Bertha and Scarlett had been inseparable, the kind of siblings who moved in tandem, who spoke in codes no one else could decipher. It wasn't hard to understand where Bertha's hostility was coming from.

Jade, perched on the couch, stiffened but said nothing. The weight of unspoken words pressed heavily on her chest, but she didn't let it show. She had mastered the art of indifference long before she ever set foot in this house.

"I will just go back to my room and tidy up a bit," she said, pushing herself off the couch. "Just call me when breakfast is ready and served."

The moment the words left her lips, she froze. It had been a reflex, a habit from her former home, where maids scurried about at her command. Now, in this house, her new home, she had no such privilege.

Silence.

She turned back, and the weight of a dozen stares settled on her like a shroud. Their expressions were unreadable— too blank, too cold. It was unsettling to have so many eyes on her, yet not a single one held warmth. A ghost of realization flickered across their faces, but it passed just as quickly as it came.

Jade didn't wait for anyone to comment. She pivoted sharply and hurried to her room, her heart hammering against her ribs, though her face betrayed nothing.

George shook his head, his lips pressing into a tight line. His shoulders sagged, his usual easy-going demeanor replaced with quiet frustration.

"You all should try to understand her situation," he finally said, his voice measured but firm. "She had to leave everything behind— a familiar environment, a familiar lifestyle— and step into a place where she is clearly unwelcome. And yet, you're making her walk on thin ice. It's not fair. Not to her, not to yourselves. She did nothing wrong, and in fact, she should be the one acting out, not the rest of you."

His tone sharpened as he continued. "Just imagine it, leaving behind everything you've ever known and being expected to adjust overnight to a life where you are treated as an outsider. If any of you had to experience that, you wouldn't last a day. But here she is, and instead of meeting her halfway, you're punishing her for merely existing in the space that was always meant to be hers. You're not being fair to her."

He let the words settle before shaking his head in disappointment and leaving the living room.

Bertha, from the kitchen, scoffed. "I would actually be glad to leave everything behind. It's not like there's anything nostalgia-worthy in this house."

No one responded. One by one, they all drifted away, each going back to whatever chore had momentarily been abandoned. Yet, the atmosphere had shifted; the unease lingered like an unwelcome guest, refusing to be ignored.

That Saturday was bound to be a restless one for some people.

Jade wasn't a deep thinker. She had never been one to overanalyze or dwell on emotions. If anything, she prided herself on her nonchalance. It had served her well in the past.

The moment she stepped into her room, the living room scene was erased from her mind. This was her new comfort zone, no matter how different it was from her old one.

The room was small. No bathroom. No walk-in closet. The paint on the walls was dull and peeling at the edges. In the corner stood a single wooden wardrobe, old and slightly worn. She had been relieved when she first saw it, grateful that she had packed light.

It wasn't much.

But half a loaf was better than none.

Jade let out a long sigh as she flopped onto the narrow bed, staring at the ceiling. The mattress wasn't as plush as she was used to, but at least it was hers.

"Sleep, sleep, come again, come and show your lovely face, pretty Jade wants to sleep," she murmured, a lullaby to no one in particular.

Her eyes fluttered shut. The tension from before melted away. For now, at least, peace found her.

---

Some time later, the door creaked open.

A head poked in, scanning the dimly lit room. Steve.

His gaze swept over the modest space before landing on the curled-up figure on the bed. His eyes darkened slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. But he didn't say a word.

He stepped back and gently shut the door behind him.

Unknown to him, Jade's eyes cracked open the moment the door clicked shut.

Silently, she slipped out of bed and tiptoed after him.

---

Steve re-entered the dining room, his expression unreadable.

"She's asleep," he announced. "Should I wake her or not?"

Lovett, their mother, didn't look up from where she was serving food. "Go and wake her before the food gets cold."

"No need. I'm already here," Jade's voice cut in before Steve could turn back.

She walked in, calm, composed. A faint, unreadable smile played at her lips, and her eyes held a quiet defiance. It was as if nothing fazed her, as if she had already made peace with the hostility surrounding her.

George, watching her, smiled slightly. In that moment, she looked even more beautiful—determined, unbothered, and completely in control of herself.

"Good morning once again to you too," he greeted.

The air lightened a fraction as they settled in for breakfast. Jade took the seat beside Steve, the only one who seemed the slightest bit approachable.

But of course, Bertha wasn't one to let things go so easily.

"My, my! Someone radiates happiness this morning despite doing no—"

"It's not early morning anymore," Jade cut in smoothly, not allowing her to finish. "It's almost 11 AM. As someone older, you should be more aware of that than me, right?"

Then, with an unwavering gaze, she addressed the entire table.

"I don't expect you all to accept me overnight. In fact, I don't expect it at all. I have no intention of forcing myself into a place where I am clearly unwanted. But let's get one thing straight— you may not like me, but I won't tolerate being mistreated or mocked. I didn't have the same upbringing as you. I didn't get the same attention. So if you have any issues with me, keep them to yourselves. All I ask is that we coexist without hostility."

She finished, her expression unreadable, and turned back to her food.

A heavy silence followed. The others exchanged glances, but no one spoke.

They ate, but the food tasted like nothing.

The scrape of a chair against the floor broke the silence.

Jade stood up, heading for her room.

Then—

"Can you give us a chance?"

Steve's voice stopped her.

She turned.

His expression was softer now, conflicted. "We avoided you for the past two weeks, but it's not as simple as you think. Scarlett was this family's pride. And then, out of nowhere, we're told she's not one of us— that she was switched with some… average girl."

He exhaled, arms crossing over his chest. "We're still trying to process it. You need to understand that, too."

Jade's gaze swept over the table, reading the faces. They all felt the same.

She said nothing.

Then, without another word, she turned and walked away.

"Don't call me to any family meal or gathering again. This average girl wants nothing to do with you."

And with that, she disappeared down the corridor.

That Saturday was bound to be a restless one for some people.

The silence that followed Jade's departure was thick enough to choke on. No one moved. No one spoke.

Bertha's hands clenched into fists in her lap, her nails digging into her palms, but she said nothing.

Jake, the youngest, shifted uncomfortably in his seat before sighing. "Did we go too far?" His voice was quieter than usual. "I mean, we can't keep being prejudiced against her without giving her a chance. She's been here for two weeks, and we've done nothing but push her away."

No one responded, but the guilt that settled over them was palpable.

Jake turned to Bertha, his gaze sharper than before. "You've been the worst to her," he pointed out.

Bertha scoffed but didn't argue. She knew it was true.

Jake continued. "Dad was right. We've been selfish. We shouldn't keep comparing her to Scarlett. They're two different people, and she didn't ask for any of this either."

His words hung in the air, heavy with truth.

Then, with a sigh, he stood up from his chair. Without another word, he walked away, heading toward his room.

The rest of them sat there, lost in their thoughts.

Scarlett had been their pride, their family's golden child. She had been everything they could have asked for—brilliant, accomplished, someone they could all rally behind.

And now, they were expected to accept Jade, a girl who was, in every way, the opposite of what they had cherished.

It wasn't easy.

And perhaps, deep down, they knew it wasn't fair.

---

Jade locked the door behind her and leaned against it, letting out a slow breath.

She had meant what she said.

She wasn't going to beg for a place in this family.

For years, she had been ignored, treated as an afterthought in the household she had once called home. It wasn't new. She had learned long ago how to exist in spaces where she wasn't wanted.

The only difference was that, this time, she wasn't going to pretend to care.

She crossed the small room and collapsed onto her bed, staring at the ceiling.

The conversation at the dining table replayed in her mind, but instead of hurt, all she felt was exhaustion.

She had spent her whole life being invisible.

Maybe it was time to embrace it.

No more trying. No more hoping.

Just surviving.

She exhaled deeply and closed her eyes.

For now, that would have to be enough.

Just then a mockful laughter resounded quietly in the room...

"Ah! Jade, how wasteful of you. You should have gone to an acting school instead."

There was none of the anxiety she had shown to the family on her face. She looked frighteningly calm, too calm. Almost villainous.

Jade picked her phone and dialed a number...

Trnnnnnn, the phone rang for a few seconds before someone finally picked. She looked at her door as if in a daze before talking to the phone.

"It looks like none of the children knows anything. The father also seems as if he knows nothing."

The person on the other end of the phone was quiet for 2 seconds before saying.

"As expected, the most suspicious one is still the mother. One of my people found out that there was a still born at the hospital during that time. But the mother of the still born went home with a child." The voice was masculine and deep. It had roughness to it that makes one understand that the owner was a smoker.

"I will try to find out as much as I can from here. Be fast with the investigation." There was no need to say any more. They all understood what was at stake.

Tutt, the phone call ended.