Chapter 2
"If she behaves, she can stay," a man said.
A sharper male voice cut in, "If she doesn't behave, we'll kick her out that very night."
Then a gentle female voice tried to comfort her. "There, there, don't cry. No one's going to take your place."
I stood in the middle of the living room, holding my old sack, quietly taking in this whole 'welcome ceremony.'
Oh, so that was how it was.
So this was their little power play.
I really thought the rich crowd would be way more intimidating.
Guess that was all they got.
I glanced at the admission confirmation letter in my hand, and suddenly, all of this felt kind of amusing.
They were still upstairs, fussing over Joyce.
They had no clue I'd taken first place in the province-wide competition in 12th grade and already scored a guaranteed spot in Westbridge University's advanced program.
They probably didn't know that I wrote the original published paper on the core algorithm behind the Hendrix Group's most profitable smart healthcare project.
And they definitely didn't know that the anonymous genius they were throwing money at to poach—"C.J."—was me.
I folded up the rule sheet and stuffed it into my old woven sack.
Then I looked up and yelled toward the stairs, "If you guys need another ten minutes to baby her, I'm just gonna go knock out a practice exam."
The living room went dead silent.
The next second, a stampede of footsteps came crashing down the stairs.
Nice. Took them long enough.
Guess they finally decided I was worth meeting.
The first ones down were two guys.
They looked so much alike that I could tell in a heartbeat they were brothers.
The older one was in a suit, his eyes cold and sharp. The younger one was in sweats, his hair sticking up all over, and he looked at me like I was something filthy.
Trailing behind them was a girl with red-rimmed eyes, fresh from crying.
She wore a white dress, had long hair, and her skin was so fair it almost glowed. She looked like a porcelain doll, meticulously cared for.
Right behind her was my mother, Yesenia Hendrix, her hand hovering protectively over the girl's shoulder, as if she was afraid I'd leap over and devour her on the spot.
Last to come down was my father, Nathanael Hendrix.
He gave me a once-over, his eyes landing on my old woven sack, and his brow barely furrowed.
I figured he thought I was embarrassing.
I stayed calm and just nodded at him.
"Hello," I said.
He looked like he hadn't expected me to greet him so directly, paused for a second, and then cleared his throat.
"I'm your father," he said.
I nodded.
"Yeah, I figured. You look a lot like those two—and kinda like me, too," I said.
The living room went dead silent for a second.
The guy in sweats scoffed.
"Who says I look like you?" Enzo scoffed.
I gave him a look. "You do. Guess being mouthy runs in the family."
His face instantly darkened.
The girl in the white dress's eyes got even redder, and she pressed herself closer to Yesenia, her voice shaky as she asked, "Mom, should I... should I move out?"
Here she went.
What a classic act.
I hadn't even said a word, and she was already setting herself up as the victim.
Yesenia immediately pulled her into a tight hug. "Don't be silly. You're the daughter I raised."
The guy in sweats chimed in right away. "Joyce, you don't have to go anywhere."
Her name was actually pretty nice.
Honestly, she didn't seem like the brightest bulb in the box.
I just stood there, quietly watching the drama unfold.
Finally, Phillip, my elder brother, the guy in the suit, spoke up. "Cecelia, right?"
His tone was flat, but there was no mistaking the air of superiority in his voice.
"Now that you're back with the Hendrix family, you'd better start learning our rules," Phillip said. "Joyce isn't in the best health, and she's pretty sensitive—so don't upset her."
After hearing that, I just asked, "Her being sensitive—what's that got to do with me?"
The moment I said that, everyone was shocked.
Joyce's eyes brimmed with tears.
"Do you hate me?" she asked, her voice shaky.
I nearly burst out laughing. "Seriously? Isn't that a dumb question?
"This is literally the first time we've met, and you already had Brody hand me a list of rules. If I don't hate you, am I supposed to fall for you or something?"
Enzo Hendrix, my second brother, the guy in sweats, totally blew up. "What's with that attitude?"
I set my old woven sack down by my feet and finally looked him in the eye.
"What about your attitude?" I shot back. "Weren't you the one upstairs saying if I didn't behave, you'd kick me out?
"I'm already through the door. Now you're playing the hero?"
Enzo choked on his words, his face flushing red.
Nathanael frowned, clearly not happy.
"Cecelia, you just got home. Don't be so blunt," he said.
I nodded.
"Alright," I said.
"Let me try being polite, then," I added.