Chapter 6
Naya's grip tightened around the rose, her knuckles whitening. She wanted to scream, to tell them to stop, but the weight of her sorrow rendered her mute. Instead, she turned away, focusing on her mother's face, trying to drown out the venomous murmurs.
Days bled into weeks, and weeks into months. The Caldwell household operated like a ghost ship, drifting aimlessly through the sea of grief. Each member coped in their own way
Naya immersed herself in her mother's belongings, finding solace in the lingering scent of her perfume.
Serena threw herself into her studies, seeking distraction in the pages of thick textbooks.
Hailey become increasingly withdrawn, her laugher a distant memory.
Kaylen distenced himself, often busy with his friends and doing mschivious things to distract himself and forget everything.
Mr. Caldwell, once a piller of strength, seemed to wither before their eyes, his demeanor a blend of guilt and despair, he spent hours in his study, the door perpetually closed, a barrier between him and the world.
A year passed in this melancholic limbo, the anniversary of lady Caldwell's death marked by a subdued family dinner, each member lost in their own thoughts. It was shortly after this sombar milestone that she arrived.
Her name was Vivian, a woman of striking beauty and an air of sophistication. She entered Caldwell Manor with a confident stride, her presence commanding attention. Mr. Caldwell introduced her as an old acquaintance, but the glint in his eye spoke of a deeper connection.
James Caldwell
Childern, this is Vivian. She... she will be staying with us for a while.
The announcement was met with heavy silence, the air thick with unspoken words. Naya felt a surge of anger, her mother still raw, the wound of her adsense barely scabbed over.
Naya Caldwell(9)
Papa, How can you—
James Caldwell
*Sharp* Enough Naya.This is my decision.
Vivian offered a tight-lipped smile, her eyes scanning the room, assessing, calculating.
Vivian Caldwell (Stepmom)
I understand this is difficult, but i hope we can all find a way to move forward together.
Her eyes were met with cold stares, the room's temperature dropping several degrees. The Caldwell children retreated into their shells, the chasm between them and their father widening with each passing day.
Vivian's integration into the household was met with resistance. She attempted to impose new routines, her authoritative demeanor clashing with the family's fregile state. Meals become formal affairs, the warmth and familiarity replaced with rigid etiquette. The manor, once a sanctuary, now felt like a gilded cage.
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