Aspyn Guzman glanced up just in time to see Grant Guzman walking out, a trace of detachment in her eyes. Lucky for him, she no longer expected a thing from him—otherwise, that might have stung.
She stepped inside after Grant and found the exact scene he'd described: everyone was there except their father. Her brothers, Jay and Ezekiel, were on the couch chatting with Avayah.
"Zeke, I love this dress. Could you get it for me?" Avayah asked, flashing a sweet smile.
"Of course, no problem. I'll have the brand send over the entire season's collection," Ezekiel replied, generous as always.
"Jay, I'm stuck on my paper. Could you take a look at it later? Please?" Avayah batted her lashes sweetly.
"Sure thing!" Jay said, his tone indulgent.
Their mother watched her children with a look of gentle affection. It was the perfect picture of a warm, loving family.
Aspyn felt out of place—just like she had when she'd first come back to this family six years ago. She'd always been the outsider. Case in point: that time Avayah broke down crying, the whole family swarmed around her, while Aspyn stood there overlooked for over an hour.
This time, though, their mother noticed her sooner and hurried over, excitement in her eyes.
"Aspyn, you're back?" her mother exclaimed, eagerly reaching for Aspyn's hands. "Let me get a good look at you."
"You're so thin! But your complexion has improved."
Aspyn gently pulled her hands away, her tone flat. "Thank you for your concern."
"Aspyn, enough with that attitude," Grant cut in, his patience wearing thin. "The whole family is here to welcome you back, and you're acting like this? For what?"
Their mother's face flickered between hurt and disappointment. "Aspyn... are you blaming us?"
Seeing their mother upset, her siblings immediately rushed to console her, Avayah already close to tears. "Mom, don't be upset."
"Aspyn, blame me all you want, but please don't be like this. Mom missed you so much."
"She's been thinking about you every single day for the past three years. If you keep acting like this, you'll just break her heart."
Aspyn watched them close ranks around Avayah. The irony was almost funny.
She had lost three years of her life for Avayah, and somehow they had still cast her as the threat.
"Can you not cause a scene the second you walk through the door and drag everyone down? Just apologize to Mom," Ezekiel grumbled.
Aspyn gave Ezekiel a slight smirk. "Didn't Dad publicly cut ties with me when I was sentenced? Why should I apologize?"
A heavy silence descended over the living room.
Their mother stared at Aspyn, clearly pained and completely at a loss for words.
Grant finally broke the awkward pause. "Back then, the company's stock was crashing. Dad had no choice but to make a quick call. We can fix this; you don't need to worry about it."
"Alright, you must be exhausted. Why don't you go freshen up, and come down for dinner," he added, his tone noticeably softer. If Aspyn hadn't brought it up, he probably would've forgotten the public disownment ever happened.
When the scandal of the unlicensed driving and fatal accident broke, the company's stock took a nosedive, and Grant had suggested the disownment as a temporary fix. They'd planned to reinstate her once things settled down—but somehow, it slipped their minds.
Grant glanced at Aspyn apologetically, but her eyes no longer held any admiration or expectation. Instead, she looked utterly indifferent, which left him uneasy, like something was off and he couldn't put his finger on it.
Aspyn ignored all the unspoken questions and followed the housekeeper to her room to shower. She couldn't wait to wash off the grime of her past. But when she saw the clothes laid out for her—a frilly, girlish style that was so Avayah—she paused.
Ever since she'd been taken in by this family, her wardrobe had been filled with this style, clothes she never even liked. She'd naively believed they were picked out by her mother out of love, so she wore them despite disliking every single piece.
It wasn't until later that she found out they were just Avayah's cast-offs.
Every season, the newest fashion collections were bought for Avayah, and whatever she didn't want ended up with Aspyn.
But now? She was done with those hand-me-downs.
After her shower, Aspyn put on her own clothes instead of the ones provided, and headed downstairs. The family had gathered at the dining table, presumably to celebrate her homecoming. Yet no one had waited for her. They were all busy fussing over Avayah—until their mother finally noticed Aspyn was missing.
A rare flicker of guilt passed through her mother's eyes. Noticing that Aspyn hadn't changed, she hurriedly asked, "Why didn't you change? Were the clothes the wrong size?"
"Yes," Aspyn said, no further explanation.
"My fault. I thought you and Avayah were about the same size, and the clothes would fit you."
Same size? Aspyn was a good six inches taller than Avayah. Had her mother ever even noticed that those clothes were always too short?
Unable to hold it in any longer, Aspyn let out a soft, sardonic chuckle. "Not your fault. I ate well and slept well in the facility, so I grew. It's only natural you wouldn't know."
Her comment plunged the dining room into dead silence.
A piece of silverware slipped from Avayah's grasp and clattered to the floor. Her face went pale with fear.
Their mother rushed to soothe her. "It's alright, Avayah."
Grant shot Aspyn a cold warning look. "Don't mention that place. It scares Avayah."
Just the mere mention of the facility frightened Avayah and sent them all into a panic. But had any of them ever wondered how she'd managed to survive those three years inside?
Aspyn's lips curled into a bitter smile. How one-sided their concern was.
Watching the family fuss over Avayah, a trace of scorn flickered in Aspyn's eyes.
She focused on her food, tuning everyone out. It had been a long time since she'd tasted anything this good.
By the time the Guzman family snapped out of it, they found Aspyn eating quickly and with real relish, completely unbothered by their little drama.
This new version of Aspyn was unfamiliar to them.
She used to care so deeply about their feelings. The slightest sign of displeasure would leave her anxious and worried, until she saw them happy again.
Her transformation left everyone on edge.
Just as Grant was about to speak, he caught sight of a ghastly scar running across her wrist—and he blurted out, "What happened to your hand?"
