The aroma of black tea in the break room was so strong it seemed ready to overflow. I stirred it with a spoon, took a sip, and felt something uncomfortable as it went down.
My colleague glared indignantly.
“How can she swoop in and snatch your position like that? Using connections so blatantly?”
“Irene, aren’t you angry?”
“That position was rightfully yours. You’ve worked so hard. Remember when you fainted from working overtime?”
Her eyes fell on my gaunt face. “Irene, you don’t need to push yourself so hard. Maybe cut back on the strong tea; it’s not good for your health.”
The warmth of the tea cup seeped through the ceramic, burning my hand slightly. I whispered my thanks, “Mr. Steinem must have his reasons.”
She widened her eyes and was about to continue her rant when my phone rang abruptly.
Charles’ voice came through the hallway outside the break room, tinged with barely contained fury, “Irene, come to my office.”
My hand trembled, spilling a few drops of tea onto my cloth.
The heat seared through the fabric, stinging my skin.
I responded quietly, “Okay.”
The moment Charles’s office door opened, I saw Tiffany sitting on the sofa, her head slightly bowed, clutching a piece of paper.
Charles was there too, his face cold, seething with suppressed anger.
People used to say that although Charles and I came from the same womb, only our eyes looked alike.
The corners of our eyes turned upwards, giving us a naturally aloof and distant look when we weren’t smiling.
Unfortunately, neither of us liked to smile.
Charles had never smiled at me.
“Although Tiffany was here through the backdoor, she has the capability.”
“Irene.”
Charles called my name, his brows tightly furrowed.
“If you have grievances, say them directly. Spreading rumors and isolating Tiffany with your colleagues—are you inherently malicious, Irene?”
This had all happened in just half a day.
I glanced at Tiffany, who met my gaze. Her face, full of youthful collagen, was slightly flushed, tears glistening in her eyes before she quickly looked down again.
The stage was set, the actors ready, but I had no interest in playing their game.
“People can say what they want. How is that my problem?”
“And besides—”
“Everyone’s not stupid.”
The sound of sobbing and something falling interrupted us. The expensive crystal ornament that had been on the table was now in pieces, shattering at my feet beautifully.
“Irene! You…”
A light piece of paper landed on his desk.
Charles’s anger flared up again when he read it, “Irene!”
“Are you still a child?”
“Are you acting up?”
The fresh resignation letter was crumpled into a ball and tossed back at my feet like garbage.
This wasn’t a decision out of anger or what he said, “acting out”.
I had known for a long time that I had no right to throw tantrums.
Only children who are doted on have that privilege, and I didn’t.
“I’ll go to HR myself.”
As I closed the door, his angry shouts were shut out.
I had only taken a few steps before Tiffany caught up to me.
“Irene.” Her voice still carried that distinctive Tiffany-like blend of warmth and sharpness, cautiously reaching out to hold my hand.
“Irene, don’t be mad. I don’t want this position. I’ll tell Brother Charles. Don’t throw a tantrum.”
“If I had known, I wouldn’t have come back. Irene, don’t ruin your relationship with Brother Charles because of me.”
The surroundings was empty.
I stopped and looked at her.
Tiffany’s eyes always carried a natural innocence and a pitiful look, coupled with her slightly red eyes and nose, it always easily won others’ sympathy.
She looked just like she did ten years ago, not long after she came to live with us.
“Tiffany.”
I stepped closer, gripping her chin. “This trick of yours never fails, does it?”
Tiffany’s face turned pale instantly.
The elevator dinged its arrival. I let go and turned towards the elevator. She stood there, seemingly unable to react.
I smiled at her, “You know very well, there’s never been any sibling affection between him and me.”
“Honestly, you are more like his sister.”
