“Besides, you've still got me, haven't you? From now on I'll back you with everything I have. You're going to make the finest heir Pruitt Group has ever had.”
The moment I pushed the door open, my breath caught.
There was Alex Gilbert, sprawled at ease with Irma Finch perched on his lap, guiding her hand through the contracts.
And spread out in front of him were the original baseline prices on the company's heaviest deals.
At the sound, both their heads snapped up. The instant Irma caught the sharp edge in my eyes, she scrambled off Alex's lap in a flurry of panic.
Then she dropped her head, timid, and stood off to the side.
“Sis, what are you doing here?”
“I'm sorry, this is my fault. I shouldn't have just sat in your seat. It was Alex and Dad who said……they said I'd be taking over the company one day, so I should get familiar with things first.”
She kept her head down, the rims of her eyes slowly going red.
Something dark flickered through Alex's gaze. He yanked Irma back and slid an arm around her waist without the slightest shame.
“Irma, don't be afraid.”
“You don't owe anyone an explanation. Everything here was always yours. Someone just moved into a nest that didn't belong to her.”
Irma slowly straightened up, and something smug flickered through her eyes.
Her hand curled around Alex's arm, even as her mouth shaped the words of apology.
“Sis, I'm so sorry. I never wanted to take anything from you. Getting Mom and Dad back, meeting Alex, that's already more than enough for me.”
As she spoke, she rose, picked up the kettle from the coffee table, poured a cup, and carried it over to me.
“Sis, this cup of tea is from me, your little sister. I hope you won't stay angry with me. From now on, the two of us can run Pruitt together, and look after Mom and Dad side by side, can't we?”
Watching her stand there in front of me, so meek, I felt like a great stone had lodged itself in my chest. In the end, I still reached out my hand.
The instant my fingers brushed the cup, the entire cup of tea poured down over the back of my hand, and a searing pain shot through my whole body.
On reflex, I shoved Irma away, and all at once she seized my scalded hand and rubbed it hard.
“Sis, I know you don't like me, that you blame me for taking your things. But I came to you in good faith, to apologize and explain. How could you pour your tea over my hand?”
The sting on the back of my hand jolted through every nerve, and I wrenched my arm free of Irma harder than I meant to.
There was a cry, and Irma toppled onto the coffee table, knocking over the kettle, the boiling water splashing across her arm too.
Before I could get a word out, a frantic shout rang through the office.
“Irma, what happened to you?”
My father crossed the room in a single stride and pulled her up.
Irma clutched her arm tight, eyes brimming red.
“Mom, Dad, I'm fine. I was just careless and touched the hot water myself.”
The words had barely left her mouth when Alex roared.
“Irma, even now you're still going to swallow it and protect her? Ida couldn't stand the sight of you. First she poured her tea on your hand, then she shoved you down, and you're still speaking up for her.”
Mom rushed forward at once and pulled Irma's hand down. A row of livid blisters across her arm came into full view of everyone.
She sucked in a sharp breath, tears of pity spilling over.
“You foolish girl, burned like this and still holding it in. Come with me to the hospital, quickly, before it leaves a scar.”
All four of them swept Irma out of the office in a panicked rush.
The moment he stepped through the door, my father turned back and gave me a long, weighted look, then sighed.
“Ida, Dad knows you're proud and capable. But Irma has already been through so much. You shouldn't have gone after her.”
And with that, he didn't spare me another glance, striding out of the office.
That single line, “Dad, it wasn't me,” caught in my throat in the end. Even if I had said it out loud, what would it matter? He wouldn't have heard it anyway.
