"I’m fine," Anabella said firmly.
Noah studied her for a mont, then stood. "Alright, I’m gonna grab sothing to drink. You want anything?"
Anabella shook her head. "I’m good, thanks."
He ruffled her hair playfully, ignoring her scowl, and wandered off toward the vending machines. Clair remained, seated across from her.
The quiet between them was companionable, but sothing in the air shifted suddenly, making Anabella tense. Her gaze darted down the hallway, and her heart sank.
Walking toward them was her mother. Helena’s determined stride and sharp expression made Anabella freeze where she sat. The older woman’s presence was like a storm cloud rolling in, and every instinct Anabella had scread at her to run, to hide, to do anything but face her.
Clair noticed the change in Anabella imdiately. She followed her line of sight, her brows knitting together as she took in the approaching figure. Without hesitation, Clair stood, placing herself squarely between Anabella and her mother.
"You’re not welco here," Clair said, her voice calm but firm as Helena ca to a stop in front of her.
"This doesn’t concern you," Helena snapped, her gaze flickering past Clair to where Anabella sat frozen. "Move aside."
Clair didn’t budge. If anything, her stance beca more imposing. "I don’t think so. You’ve already done enough damage. Leave her alone."
Anabella’s throat tightened as she watched the exchange. She wanted to say sothing, to stand up for herself, but the weight of Helena’s presence rendered her mute.
"You don’t understand," Helena hissed, her voice dropping to a dangerous level. "I’m her mother. I have every right to speak to her."
"And I’m her friend," Clair shot back, her tone icy. "I have every right to protect her."
The tension between the two won was suffocating. Anabella could barely breathe, her heart pounding as Helena tried to step around Clair, only for Clair to shift to block her path.
"You’ve poisoned her mind against ," Helena accused, her voice rising slightly.
Clair crossed her arms, unimpressed. "She’s made her own decisions. And from what I can see, they’re better without you."
Helena’s face twisted in anger, but before she could retort, Noah reappeared, a bottle of water in his hand and a dangerous look in his eyes.
"Everything okay here?" he asked, his tone casual but carrying an edge that made even Helena pause.
"Stay out of this," Helena snapped.
"No," Noah said, stepping to stand beside Clair. "I don’t think I will. Anabella doesn’t need this right now. Leave."
Helena’s gaze shifted between them, calculating. Her lips pressed into a thin line, but after a tense mont, she took a step back. "This isn’t over," she said, her voice dripping with venom.
"It is for today," Clair said evenly.
Helena gave one last glare before turning on her heel and stalking off, her heels clicking against the tiled floor.
As soon as she was out of sight, Anabella let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her shoulders sagged, and her hands trembled in her lap.
"Hey," Clair said softly, crouching in front of her. "You okay?"
Anabella nodded shakily, though she couldn’t bring herself to speak.
Noah handed her the bottle of water he had brought, his expression softening. "Drink," he said gently.
She took it, her hands still shaking, and sipped slowly.
"You don’t have to deal with her alone," Clair said, her voice steady. "We’ve got your back."
Anabella looked up at her, her eyes shimring with unshed tears. For the first ti in a long ti, she felt truly supported.
______
Helena stord into the house, the sound of her heels echoing off the marble floors like gunshots. Her face was a mask of fury, her hands clenched into fists as she marched toward the sitting room, where her husband, Marcus, was seated with a book in his lap. He looked up when she entered, his brow furrowing slightly at her expression.
"Marcus!" Helena snapped, her voice sharp enough to make him set his book aside. "Do you know what your daughter has done now?"
He sighed, adjusting his glasses and bracing himself for the storm. "What has Anabella done this ti?"
Helena threw her hands up, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. "She has turned against ! She’s letting those...those strangers manipulate her! I went to see her, to talk so sense into her, and she had the audacity to let that Clair woman stand in my way!"
Marcus leaned back in his chair, his expression neutral. "I see. And why did you go to see her, Helena? You know how tense things are right now. Maybe giving her so space would have been wiser."
"Space?" Helena’s voice rose an octave, her rage bubbling over. "She doesn’t need space! She needs guidance, and clearly, she’s incapable of making good decisions on her own!"
Marcus sighed again, standing to face her. "Helena, she’s an adult. She has every right to decide who she wants in her life and how she wants to handle her problems. If she didn’t want to see you, that’s her choice."
Helena stopped pacing, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "You’re taking her side? Again?"
"I’m not taking sides," Marcus replied evenly. "I’m trying to be reasonable. You barging into her life uninvited and causing a scene isn’t helping anyone."
Helena pointed a finger at him, her hand trembling with anger. "You always do this! You always defend her, no matter what she does. It’s favoritism, Marcus! You’ve always favored her because she’s a reminder of her—your precious first wife!"
Marcus stiffened, his jaw tightening. "Helena, don’t."
But Helena was relentless. "It’s true, isn’t it? You’ve never loved as much as you loved her. You married because you needed soone to take care of your daughter, and that’s all I’ve ever been to you—a replacent!"
For a mont, there was silence between them, the air heavy with tension. Marcus looked at her, his face unreadable. Then, to her shock, he nodded.
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