Chapter 4
The cold wind slipped in through the cracks in the corridor windows, and the broken pendant pressed against my palm, cold as a shard of ice.
Leonard mentioned the old house that my mom left me.
I was only twelve when my mom passed away.
She died suddenly in a car accident, and I didn't get to see her one last time.
After the funeral, Regina took my hand and brought me back to the Shelton family.
She said, "Monica, this is your home now."
I believed her.
I thought the Shelton family was all I had then.
So all these years, I never dared to act out, make a fuss, or talk back to Regina.
When Selena was in a bad mood, I went along with her.
When Regina was busy, I'd step up and help out around the house.
Whenever the elders praised me for being sensible, I'd try harder to be the perfect kid.
I always felt that, as someone who wasn't really part of the family, I had no right to complain.
But now, someone was telling me something I never knew.
My mom had left me a house.
And Regina had never told me.
My fingers felt numb, and I had to retype my message a few times before I hit send.
I asked, [Who are you?]
The reply popped up almost right away.
He replied: [Leonard Mosley. Before your mom, Nora Richardson, passed away, she asked my dad to take care of some documents for her.
[My dad passed away last year. I was sorting through his old files recently and realized this job was never done.]
My mom's name was Nora Richardson.
It had been ages since I'd heard my mom's name come from someone else's lips.
It hit me like a punch to the chest, and my eyes stung with the ache.
As I was about to ask another question, footsteps suddenly sounded behind me.
I hurriedly turned off my phone screen and slipped the broken necklace into my coat pocket.
Matthew walked over.
He'd finished the call with Phoebe, and there was still a hint of gentleness in his eyes.
But when he saw me, that gentleness slowly faded away.
"Why are you still standing here?" Matthew asked.
I looked down, not meeting his eyes.
"I needed some air," I replied.
His gaze landed on my bare collarbone.
I was wearing a low-cut sweater today.
The moon necklace he gave me always stood out.
Matthew frowned. "Where's the necklace?"
I clenched my hand without thinking.
The broken chain gem poked at me from inside my pocket, like a thorn.
"I took it off," I replied.
"Why?" Matthew asked. His annoyance was obvious in his voice.
It felt less like a necklace and more like he was marking me as his territory.
I looked up at him and suddenly felt a weird urge to laugh.
"I don't like it anymore," I said.
Matthew froze.
This was probably the first time I had told him to his face that I didn't like something he'd given me.
Before this, no matter what he gave me, I always said I liked it.
Even when my birthday gift showed up three months late, I said I liked it.
Even when the ring didn't fit, I said I liked it.
Even when he had his assistant grab a random scarf, I said I liked it.
It wasn't about the stuff itself.
What mattered was that I thought it was from him.
Now I realized, even the right to say I didn't like something had to be hidden away carefully.
Matthew looked at me, his face darkening. "Monica, do you have to talk to me like this?"
I lowered my eyes. "How else should I talk to you?"
He paused for a moment and then lowered his voice. "Phoebe got off the plane.
"Tomorrow's the dinner party, and everyone's coming. Don't start any drama now."
It finally clicked for me that he never cared if I was upset.
All he cared about was whether I'd stir up trouble.
All he cared about was whether I'd put him in a tough spot now that Phoebe was back.
I felt my throat was filled with damp cotton, and it took everything I had to keep my voice steady.
"Don't worry. I won't make things difficult for you," I told him.
Matthew's expression relaxed a bit.
He thought he'd calmed me down again, like so many times before.
All it took was a frown, a soft "Monica," and I'd back down, swallowing all my hurt and frustration.
He reached out, trying to take my hand.
I stepped back a bit.
His hand closed on nothing.
The air felt frozen for a moment.
A flicker of surprise flashed in Matthew's eyes.
"Monica?" Matthew called out.
I didn't look at him.
"Aunt Regina's waiting for the medicine. I should go," I said.
I turned and headed for the kitchen.
His gaze was heavy on my back, like a weight I couldn't shake off.
But this time, I didn't look back.
While I was preparing the medicine and water, Regina came in.
She stood behind me, her voice soft as she watched the glass of water.
"Did you and Matt have a fight?" she asked.
My hands stilled for a moment.
"No," I replied.
Regina let out a soft sigh. "Monica, you've always been such a quiet kid, and I know you think a lot.
"But Matt's treated you well. Everyone's seen how much he's cared for you these past few years."
I didn't say anything.
She continued, "Don't take his kindness for granted. Matt's going to be in charge of the Payne family business someday.
"His world is complicated, and he can't always make you his priority."