Charles snorted. “Then move back here, and I’ll let you call me your brother.”
Maisy hesitated, her expression faltering. “My adoptive mom is in poor health and needs my care. I want to move back, but she raised me. I can’t just abandon her,” she replied, struggling to keep her tone steady.
Charles studied her, suspicion written all over his face. Had she really changed? Had she learned her lesson?
Harvey, not wasting a moment, approached them with a cold look. “Faker.”
Maisy’s anger flared. She almost wanted to slap him right then and there.
“Harvey, it was a misunderstanding before,” Maisy said, her voice forced in calmness. “Everyone has moments of impulsiveness. I just didn’t adapt as quickly as Skylar. I hadn’t fully accepted my true identity back then.”
Harvey wasn’t fooled. His eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to make us doubt Skylar and hate her again, aren’t you?”
Maisy’s facade was starting to crack. Harvey was too sharp for her games.
He continued, his voice low and threatening. “I don’t care how you tricked Mom, but if I find out you made her sad again, I swear I’ll deal with you.”
Charles added his voice, cold and firm. “If you mention Skylar again, I will make you regret it.”
Maisy felt the tension in the air as she stood between the two of them, their hostility palpable. Clutching her bag tightly, she braced herself. Fine. Let them believe they were winning. Soon, they’d be begging her to forgive them for standing by Skylar.
Just then, Janine appeared from the kitchen, noticing the trio still standing at the door.
“Is that Maisy? Why are you all standing outside? Come in quickly,” she called out, walking toward them.
“Yes, Mom. I’m here,” Maisy responded obediently, her tone sweet.
Charles and Harvey exchanged wary glances but stepped aside to let her enter.
As Maisy walked into the house, she was taken aback by the state of the place. It was worse than she imagined. The furniture was old, worn down by years of use. Although it wasn’t broken, it reeked of a cheap, stale smell. The place was clean, thankfully, but it hardly made up for how shabby everything looked.
Charles and Harvey, noticing the disgust in Maisy’s eyes, knew they had been right. She was only pretending earlier—there was no real change in her attitude.
Meanwhile, at the Hughes Residence, Skylar noticed that Natalie seemed a little off. Her eyes were red, her face tired.
“Can’t sleep?” Skylar asked, concern in her voice.
Natalie yawned, rubbing her eyes. “I heard my mom talking about my cousin, Nancy, last night. We ended up chatting until midnight.”
Skylar raised an eyebrow. “Nancy?”
“Yeah, it’s her,” Natalie replied, her voice heavy with emotion. “Nancy Turner. She used to be the belle of the dance department at Jipsburg University. She had big dreams of joining the National Dance Team before she got pregnant. After that, she became a full-time housewife. It’s a real shame.”
Skylar nodded, her expression softening. She vaguely remembered Natalie mentioning Nancy before. “What happened?”
Natalie sighed. “She gave birth to a daughter last year and had hoped to get back to dancing this year. But her in-laws said they couldn’t take care of the baby, so they forced her to stay home full-time. They didn’t trust the nanny either.”
Natalie’s eyes began to glisten with unshed tears. “Her husband, Floyd Wilson, also thought she was being selfish for wanting to leave their baby alone when she was so young. Nancy was crushed, but she had no choice but to listen to the family.”
Skylar helped Natalie sit down on the couch, her expression somber. She could see how much this situation was affecting her friend.
“But a few days ago,” Natalie continued, her voice cracking slightly, “while Nancy was browsing her phone, she stumbled across a livestream on street photography. She saw Floyd and another woman—entering a hotel together.”
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