03. Sudden call/ family dinner

Three months later, Rosslyn found herself deeply engrossed in her work, her focus laser-sharp. A sudden buzz from her phone startled her, pulling her out of her concentration.

"Hello?" she answered, her voice a little strained, not bothering to check who was calling.

"Come home," the voice boomed over the line, a familiar authority that sent a shiver down her spine. "There's a family dinner later. You must come." Before she could respond, the call abruptly ended. She recognized the voice instantly, her father's, a man who had always favored her older sister, Vivian.

"What occasion could warrant a family dinner?" she wondered, a knot of unease tightening in her stomach. Since the incident, she had avoided returning home, her heart still heavy with the pain of that night.

Time ticked by, and when she finally glanced at her watch, it was already 6:00 PM. She quickly hopped on her motorbike and sped home, heading straight for her condo. She took the elevator to her floor, and once inside, rushed through a quick shower.

Emerging from the bathroom, she blow-dried her hair, pulling on a pair of gray jogger pants, a black t-shirt a little too big for her, and a black baseball cap. She finished off her outfit with a pair of white sneakers, then grabbed her black backpack and headed out.

She hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address of her family’s sprawling mansion.

The imposing black gates with their gilded accents swung open after a twenty-minute drive, and as Rosslyn entered the sprawling grounds, a wave of heartache washed over her. She had never thought this day would come, especially after the incident. If not for her father’s insistence, she would never have stepped foot in this mansion again.

A maid, her face impassive, held the door open, a respectful gesture that was entirely foreign to Rosslyn. She had always been treated as an outsider by the family's servants, an invisible presence in their world. "Welcome home, miss," the maid said, her voice laced with a politeness that felt almost forced.

"Don't act," Rosslyn snapped, brushing past her.

The dining table was already buzzing with conversation, the family clearly well into their meal. Rosslyn felt a surge of resentment, her anger simmering beneath the surface. She refused to show it, unwilling to start another argument that would only leave her feeling more isolated and alone.

"Vivian was hungry, so we started," her mother said, her tone clipped and unwelcoming. "Have a seat." Rosslyn felt the weight of her family's indifference, their lack of genuine warmth making her feel even more unwelcome.

After taking her seat, Rosslyn glanced at the spread of food on the table—all of Vivian's favorites. A wave of nausea washed over her, the food suddenly feeling like a physical embodiment of her family's favoritism.

She spotted the maid standing nearby. "Excuse me," she said, trying to keep her voice neutral. "Do you have soup?"

The maid seemed flustered, her eyes darting between Rosslyn and the table laden with food.

"You don't like the food that was prepared here?" her mother’s voice, dripping with icy disapproval, cut through the air. "Don't you feel embarrassed to our visitors?"

"It's not that I don't like the food," Rosslyn said, her voice carefully controlled. "It's just a little too heavy for me. I haven't had lunch yet, and I thought a soup would settle my stomach."

Her mother's hand shot out, placing a bowl of sinigang shrimp in front of her. "It's a soup with shrimp," she said, her tone clipped and unsympathetic.

Rosslyn's heart plummeted. She was severely allergic to shrimp, and her mother knew it. A wave of anger surged through her, but she clenched her fists under the table, forcing herself to remain calm.

"Eat a lot, Sis," Michelle, her adopted sister who was only a year older, said, her voice brimming with a warmth that stung Rosslyn even more. Michelle, her parents' biological daughter, was showered with affection and love—a stark contrast to the icy indifference Rosslyn received.

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