The dining room felt unusually tense that night.
The soft glow of the chandelier reflected off the polished table, yet the warmth of the light did nothing to ease the heaviness in the air.
No one spoke.
No laughter. No casual conversation.
Only the quiet clinking of spoons and forks echoed faintly in the silence.
Ella sat at the edge of the table, her back straight, her movements careful and controlled. She kept her eyes fixed on her plate, avoiding any unnecessary attention—especially from Henry.
Even without looking, she could feel his presence.
Cold. Distant.
The silence dragged on… until—
Mrs. Sampson cleared her throat.
"Ella."
Ella looked up immediately. "Yes, ma?"
Mrs. Sampson's expression was calm but intentional.
"I want you to be joining us permanently for breakfast and dinner on this dining table."
Ella blinked in surprise.
"Really?"
"Yes, of course," Mrs. Sampson replied. "I've always wanted a female child… but unfortunately, I never had one. I only had Henry as a son."
Her voice softened slightly.
"My husband also wished for a daughter, but we didn't have one before he passed."
Ella's chest tightened.
"I'm so sorry, ma," she said quietly.
Mrs. Sampson gave a small, reassuring smile.
"It's alright, my dear. That's why when I see you… I take you as my own child."
Ella swallowed, emotions rising in her throat.
"Thank you, ma…"
Mrs. Sampson nodded toward her plate.
"Your food is getting cold. Eat."
"Yes, ma. Thank you."
Ella picked up her spoon again, though her heart still felt full.
After a moment, Mrs. Sampson spoke again.
"I bought you the phone."
Ella paused, then quickly looked up—not surprised this time, but clearly excited.
Mrs. Sampson brought it out and handed it to her.
"Here. Take it—it's yours."
Ella received it carefully, her face lighting up with joy.
"Oh my God! Thank you so much, ma! God will bless you! It's so beautiful—I love it. Thank you, ma!"
Mrs. Sampson let out a soft laugh.
"Alright, that's enough. Stop flattering me. I'm not God in heaven."
Then her tone shifted slightly, becoming more serious.
"Tomorrow is Monday. I will speak to my son's school principal and make all the necessary arrangements and payments."
Ella's attention sharpened instantly.
"Then by Tuesday, you will resume at your new school."
Her breath caught.
Before she could stop herself, she dropped her spoon and slid off her chair, going on her knees.
"Ma! God will bless you! My mom would be so happy if she hears this!"
Mrs. Sampson nodded calmly.
"Yes, she will be."
She continued,
"And tomorrow, you'll be going to the salon to make your hair. You're starting a new school—you need to look neat and smart."
Ella nodded quickly, overwhelmed with gratitude.
"Thank you so much, ma. God bless you."
"Amen," Mrs. Sampson replied.
Just then, Henry pushed his chair back slightly.
The faint scraping sound cut through the moment.
He had been silent the entire time.
Without a word, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up.
Mrs. Sampson looked at him.
"Are you done eating?"
"Yes," he replied flatly. "I'm heading to my room."
Her brows furrowed.
"Come back. You barely touched your food. Sit down and finish it."
Henry paused.
Slowly, his eyes shifted—briefly landing on Ella.
There was something unreadable in his gaze.
Then he looked away.
The tension in the room thickened once again.
Monday morning arrived with a quiet brightness that filtered softly through the large glass windows of Sophie's room.
Her room was nothing short of stunning.
Everything—from the neatly arranged vanity table to the elegant curtains that swayed gently with the morning breeze—spoke of comfort, class, and luxury. The walls were adorned with soft colors that gave the space a warm, sophisticated feel, while her belongings were arranged with a level of precision that reflected her personality.
Standing right in the middle of the room was Sophie.
Dressed in her school uniform, she faced the full-length mirror before her.
Her hands rested on her waist—akimbo—as her eyes carefully studied her reflection.
She was beautiful.
Not just ordinary beauty, but the kind that naturally drew attention without effort. Her smooth skin, well-shaped figure, and confident posture made her stand out anywhere she went.
Her gaze slowly lowered.
First to her chest.
Then to her hips.
A faint crease formed on her forehead as she examined herself critically, almost as if searching for a flaw.
After a few seconds, she relaxed.
A soft sigh escaped her lips.
Still intact.
A small, satisfied smile curved at the corner of her lips.
But that smile didn't last long.
Her expression gradually shifted… softening into something deeper. Something more personal.
Henry.
Just the thought of his name was enough to change her entire mood.
Sophie had always loved him.
Not recently. Not suddenly.
It was something that had grown quietly over the years—starting from their junior secondary school days. Back then, it had been nothing more than admiration… a simple crush she never took too seriously.
But as the years passed, that feeling didn't fade.
It only grew stronger.
Deeper.
More real.
While other girls admired Henry from a distance, Sophie saw herself differently. She wasn't just any girl.
She was Sophie.
The most popular girl in school.
The one everyone knew.
The one girls admired and boys couldn't ignore.
A queen in her own space.
Her confidence, beauty, and status placed her above the rest—at least, that was how everyone saw it.
And yet…
Despite all of that—
Henry never looked her way.
Not once.
Not even a glance that meant something.
It was as if she didn't exist in his world.
That alone irritated her more than she cared to admit.
Still, Sophie wasn't the type to give up.
Deep down, she held onto one belief.
One quiet, unshaken thought—
One day… she would be his girlfriend.
No matter what it took.
Her eyes sharpened slightly at her reflection, as if silently reaffirming that promise to herself.
Then, slowly, she picked up her lip gloss.
With careful precision, she applied it across her lips, enhancing the natural glow of her already striking face.
When she was done, she pressed her lips together lightly and tilted her head, inspecting the final result.
Perfect.
She reached for her backpack, slipping it over her shoulder with ease.
Before leaving, she paused.
Just for a second.
Her eyes returned to the mirror one last time.
She adjusted her posture slightly, lifting her chin with quiet confidence.
Then—
Without another word—
She turned, walked to the door, and stepped out.
The door closed softly behind her.