TPCF 63

CHAPTER 63……………..

“Not hold him accountable? From the way you put it, it sounds as if Charles Bennet were the victim here.”

I had tried my best to sound polite, but when the words finally left Anita’s mouth, even to her own ears, they carried a sharp edge.

— Anita.

“He’s the one who truly did wrong.”

— Then how should I have dealt with it? Should I have dragged you into court?

“…No. That’s not what I meant. It’s just—”

Before Anita could finish her sentence, Nathan cut her off.

— Remember what I told you before. That boy isn’t of good character.

The veins stood out on the back of Anita’s hand gripping the receiver.

“Why are you so intent on tearing Rutger down? What has he ever done to you?”

— It’s not that I dislike him. But as your friend, you ought to reconsider…

A sudden wave of fatigue washed over her. Anita leaned her forehead against the glass wall of the phone booth. The cool touch gave her the illusion that it was soothing her tangled thoughts.

“Yes. Of course, that’s what you would think.”

She had always been dutiful before her parents. Whatever they did, it could hardly harm her—or so she told herself. Even if their actions made little sense, Anita had let them pass. She knew well enough that feigning obedience was often the easiest way.

But this time, she couldn’t simply let it go. She knew Nathan’s particular dislike for Rutger and his foster father, but today it grated on her more than ever.

— If he hadn’t thrown the first punch…

“Then I would have been the one injured by broken glass, not Rutger. I’ve never understood why you’ve treated him so harshly.”

“Anita.”

His voice was firm, calling her name, but the grievances she had long swallowed finally spilled out.

“Rutger has never hesitated to help me when I needed it. He’s not someone worthy of your censure, and I’d appreciate it if you would stop interfering in matters concerning him.”

On the other end of the line, silence. Nathan said nothing for so long that, in a burst of anger, Anita slammed the receiver down.

The phone rang again before she stepped out of the booth, but she didn’t turn back.

A tightness pressed against her chest. Resting her head against the booth’s frame, Anita let out a long sigh.

Until now she had kept the peace, not wanting to stir up needless conflict. But to disparage Rutger even in such a moment—this she could not comprehend.

No. She no longer wanted to comprehend.

Looking back, her father had disapproved of Rutger from the very first moment they met. For what reason? What had the boy ever done wrong?

It was thirteen years ago, in early summer. The Veilan couple had come to visit, bringing their son. Being especially shy, I had hidden behind Mother’s skirts, peeking out at the little intruder.

The first time my eyes met Rutger’s green ones, I couldn’t look away. People called them “green eyes,” but that was only because they didn’t know better.

When I gazed into them, I felt as though I were standing in the middle of a clear, boundless sea.

It was a color where the emerald sea and the sky met, blended with the brush of a delicate hand. Those were his eyes.

My initial wariness vanished, and I spent the whole day trailing after Rutger, hoping to catch another glimpse.

“Hey, your son’s so cute. His curls make him look like a little angel.”

The soft black curls, the pretty eyes, the delicate features, the pale skin—they were the makings of a cherubic child.

But he wasn’t cute at all. That was the problem.

“Hi.”

“……”

“What’s your name?”

“……”

“Are you going to live here from now on?”

“……”

“That’d be wonderful. I’ll even give you my amethyst brooch.”

Children, when they want to befriend someone, will give away anything. The brooch was cut in the shape of a teardrop and rimmed with platinum—a gift commissioned by my parents at my birth.

With that amethyst, my birthstone, they had prayed for my happiness and health.

Not knowing the value of what I held out, I smiled wide as I offered it to him. His response, however, was cold.

“Go away.”

“What?”

“Don’t talk to me. You’re annoying. Keep your shabby brooch.”

I was of a rather delicate temperament, and the words cut like a knife. Tears welled up instantly and rolled down my cheeks. Spoiled by doting parents and nursemaids, I had never been spoken to so harshly. The sting of it became one of my earliest, most shocking memories.

When I returned from the garden sobbing, my parents rushed to ask what had happened. But I only shook my head violently and ran to my room, ignoring the nursemaid knocking at my door. I burrowed under the covers.

I don’t know why being rejected so stung. That night I clutched the brooch so tightly it nearly broke, and cried until dawn. I had only thought the colors of his eyes would go well with amethyst. Did he really need to be so cruel?

The next day, with eyes still swollen as I listlessly poked at my salad, I received shocking news: the Veilan family was moving in next door.

“Anita, you must keep a diary.”

“Why?”

“So you’ll remember what you liked, and the things you did when you were little.”

“But it’s such a bother….”