The smell of disinfectant fills the luxurious living room, like a sterile invasion of the freshly cut lily scent. Dr. Evans—the Sterling family's family doctor for twenty years—gently wrapped a pressure bandage around Callista's swollen ankle.
"Severe sprain." His voice was professionally calm. "It couldn't bear any weight at all for at least a week. Apply ice and elevate without applying pressure. Do you understand? ”
Kalista nodded, her face blank. "Thank you, doctor."
Her gaze swept across the room, landing on Isabelle, who was perched on the edge of the velvet sofa. Dr. Evans had already treated her, and her "wound" was only covered with a small, cartoon-like bandage on her knee.
Isabel looked pale and fragile, leaning against the cushion, as if just sitting up straight had drained her strength. "Brother," she whispered to Ethan, who stood guard beside her, "I'm really fine." Stop blaming Kalista. ”
Ethan's jaw tightened, he nodded briefly, and said to the doctor, "Thank you, Evans." We handle the rest ourselves. ”
The doctor packed up his bag and left, a heavy silence enveloping the entire room. Ethan dragged a heavy armchair across the carpet, placing it facing Callista. He sat down, his knee almost touching hers, creating an interrogative atmosphere.
"Kalista." His voice was low, devoid of emotion. "We need to talk."
A bitter and silent laugh formed in Kalista's mind. Here it comes. The real punishment.
"Given your behavior today." Ethan continued, his eyes like granite shards. "And the harm you caused Isabelle, I don't think you're in the right emotional state to cope with the pressure of high-level academic work."
Each word is a carefully placed stone, building a wall that blocks her future. Kalista's heart throbbed painfully, but she kept a blank expression.
Beside him, Isabel let out a perfectly timed faint sob. "This has nothing to do with her studies......
Ethan ignored her, his attention entirely focused on Kalista. "Professor Alistair Beaumont's graduate scholarship. You must withdraw your application. ”
Those words were like a heavy punch thrown down. Kalista suddenly lifted her head, her eyes wide with carefully crafted shock and disbelief. That scholarship was her everything. In her previous life, that was her only beacon of hope, the only path she carved for herself to escape this family. She remembers fighting for it, screaming and begging Ethan not to take it from her hands. They locked her in a room until the deadline passed.
Isabel sensed the scent of victory and lowered her head, but Callista could see the corners of her mouth curl up in a triumphant smile. She was always jealous of Callista's talent.
"You will give your position to Isabel." Ethan finally revealed his true purpose. "Her talent is as outstanding as yours. She simply didn't get the same opportunity. ”
Callista's gaze shifted from Ethan's cold and resolute face to Isabel's pretentious and grateful expression. It's like watching a terrible, predictable show. The urge to scream and scratch their triumphant faces is a real sensation—a ticklish pain in the throat. She swallowed it.
Resistance is pointless. She now knew. But this time, surrender will be a weapon.
"Alright."
The word was very soft, yet it fell into the silent room, carrying the impact of gunfire.
Ethan and Isabel stared at her, so shocked they couldn't speak. They expect a storm, but end up with a calm sea.
Ethan narrowed his eyes, full of doubt. "Do you understand what you're talking about? If you refuse, there will be consequences. "The threat is clear: the financial support that allows her to survive and even exist will be cut off.
"I understand." Kalista's voice was unsettlingly steady. "I agree to withdraw. I also agreed to give the position to Isabel. ”
She paused, letting the words hang in the air. Then, she met Ethan's gaze directly. Her eyes were clear, no longer tearful, but carried a strange, elusive calm.
"But I have one condition."
Ethan furrowed his brows tightly. Isabel shifted uneasily on the sofa.
"I will call Professor Beaumont myself." Kalista declared. "I will tell him in person that I voluntarily withdraw. This is my first condition. ”
She would not allow them to poison her relationship with the only professor who truly valued her work. She wants to hold the voice in the conversation.
"My second condition." Her voice carried a hint of sharpness. "It's aimed at Isabel." She didn't look at the so-called sister, her gaze fixed on Ethan. "Since you have such confidence in her talent, let her prove it."
Before the two of them could respond, Callista reached for her phone on the coffee table. Her fingers were steady, and she found the number in her contacts. She pressed the call button and then set her phone to speaker.
The room was so quiet she could hear her own blood pulsing in her ears.
After two rings, a gentle and knowledgeable voice answered the call. "Callista?" I am reviewing your latest submission. As outstanding as ever. ”
Callista's throat tightened, but she forced her voice to remain steady. "Professor Beaumont. Thank you. I called to inform you that I need to withdraw my scholarship application. ”
A shocked silence came from the other end of the line. "Withdraw?" Kalista, what's wrong? You are my most promising candidate. ”
"A private family matter requires my full attention." She retold the lie with chilling precision. She could feel Ethan's approving gaze falling on her. He thought he had won.
Then, she unleashed her ultimate move.
"But Professor, please understand. This is only temporary. I assure you, within a month, I will present you with a brand-new portfolio—such a striking piece that you will have no choice but to return my place to me. I will win it back with my strength and openness. ”
She hung up the phone.
The living room was silent. Ethan and Isabel both stared at her, their faces filled with shock, confusion, and a growing unease.
She gave them what they wanted, but turned their victory into a countdown.
