I jolted awake to the sharp crash of ceramic shattering.
The sound ripped through the quiet morning, dragging me out of sleep. I scrambled to my feet and found Tesni, standing amidst shards of broken mugs, her fists clenched. This wasn't the first time she'd done this.
"How many mugs are you going to destroy because of me?" I asked, my voice tight.
Tesni didn't flinch. "It's my way of dealing with them. What's wrong with Dad anyway? Why does he keep over three hundred mugs?"
I swallowed the sting rising in my chest. "Those mugs… they're his delight. And my mother's memories are tied to them. I don't like the idea of you breaking them."
Our father had once run a small coffee shop with Mom—may her soul rest in peace—but after she died, he closed it down and refused to open another. Back then, life was simple. We weren't rich, but we had enough.
"You're educated, Aine," Tesni continued, stepping closer, "and keeping hundreds of mugs to remember someone who's gone… it doesn't make sense. I can make a proper portrait of her for him."
I looked down, the words cutting deeper than I expected. Part of what she said… was true.
Her voice softened, but it carried a strange conviction. "I'm being honest, Aine. If my mom died, I wouldn't need things to remember her—she'd always be in my heart. And… I don't see you as my half-sister. You're my biological sister."
By the time breakfast arrived, the shards of anger and hurt were still embedded in my chest. The family gathered around the long, polished table, a silent battlefield of smiles and unsaid words.
"Good morning, Miss Aine. What would you like for breakfast today?" the maid asked politely.
"Juice, toast, and a little fruit salad, please," I said, marching to my seat with as much dignity as I could muster.
"Good morning, Aine dear. How's school?" Mrs. Ozanne asked, her voice warm.
"Pretty good," I said, forcing a smile.
Tesni frowned. "But where's Dad?"
"He went to China last night," Mrs. Ozanne answered carefully. "He's handling some crises personally."
I clenched my fists under the table. "Why is he always in China? He barely spends time with us."
"I've asked him too," Mrs. Ozanne sighed. "But he says it's for our safety. Once everything settles… we'll go on a proper vacation."
"Mum, I heard you're the guest speaker for our graduation ceremony. I'm so proud!" Tesni said, her eyes bright.
"Please… don't let anyone know I'm your half-daughter," I whispered.
Mrs. Ozanne's brows knitted in concern. "You've been hiding this at school? Aine, I treat you no differently than Tesni. Don't say things that make me feel responsible for your mother's death, please."
"Just let me live my life normally," I said firmly, ignoring the pang in my chest.
"You are the heiress to your father's textile company," Mrs. Ozanne reminded me, her tone sharp. "I haven't stripped you of that in favor of Tesni. I've raised you like my own child."
"You haven't stripped me… because you can't," I muttered. "Tesni has no knowledge of textiles. Let me run a coffee business—it's all my mother left me."
Mrs. Ozanne's eyes hardened. "I didn't place you in Jade College for you to run a coffee shop. That's final."
I slammed my hands on the table, the sound echoing in the grand dining room, and stormed out.
"Mom, please let her do it—it's not a big deal," Tesni pleaded softly behind me.
"You think her mother would want her running a coffee shop if she knew her talent?" Mrs. Ozanne's voice was steel. "Aine needs guidance… she needs to be checked."