3
636words
She immediately took off her exquisite jade bracelet and handed it to me.
My mother, despite being a minor influencer, recognized quality.
The sight of that bracelet nearly made her kneel.
"Keep it. I feel a bond with this child," Matriarch Sterling declared, utterly enchanted.
Her eyes glued to my face, completely forgetting her original purpose, which is delivering condolences on her husband's behalf to the family of his loyal subordinate, Luna's grandfather.
Luna's grandfather had served as the Sterling Patriarch's aide-de-camp decades ago. He took a bullet meant for the Patriarch and died.
Out of gratitude, the Patriarch raised Luna's father, Hugo Sterling, as his own foster son.
Hugo Sterling grew up to become the personal secretary to the Sterling family heir, Lucian Sterling—my yet-to-be-met biological father.
Because of her grandfather's and father's deep ties to the Sterlings, Luna grew up practically in their mansion, treated as a quasi-young lady.
When Luna was four, her mother passed away due to poor health. The Sterlings immediately took Luna in, making her the official heiress.
So, to steal Luna's destined adoration, I needed to be recognized by the Sterlings before she turned four.
Time was short. The mission is critical.
I gripped Matriarch Sterling's hand, beaming with all my might, pressing my cheek against her chest.
Matriarch Sterling felt her heart melt.
"Sweet little Jasmine, do you like Grammy that much? Call Grammy again, sweetheart?"
"Grammy!"
"Oh! Grammy's precious darling! Grammy will visit you every single day, okay?"
Luna's mother watched this, her face turning ashen with fury. She looked down at her listless daughter, hesitated, then pinched Luna's thigh hard.
Luna finally emitted her first, pitiful cry.
"Waaah..."
It was weak, barely louder than a mosquito's buzz.
Though inwardly seething, Luna's mother forced a smile, edging closer to Matriarch Sterling.
"Madam Sterling, Luna would love for you to hold her too."
When she arrived, Matriarch Sterling had been full of sympathy for Luna and her mother's difficult birth, intending to offer comfort.
But after holding and cooing over me, looking at Luna now—thin, small, sallow, wand crying—all interest vanished.
"That child seems too frail. Best keep her swaddled and resting. Less excitement," Matriarch Sterling dismissed coolly.
Luna's mother's face became a kaleidoscope of suppressed emotions.
Over the next few days, Matriarch Sterling visited daily.
After uttering my first word, I began sporadically adding others, "Mama," "Auntie," "Sissy"—charming every mother and nurse in the recovery center.
Except Luna's mother, of course.
But she was an expert at pretending.
"Chloe, darling, what do you think of this outfit? Little Jasmine would look adorable in it!"
"Chloe, have you thought about preschool for Jasmine? I heard about this wonderful new bilingual school nearby..."
"Chloe, look how fate brought our girls together! Shouldn't we make them honorary god-sisters?"
My mother was naive andeasily impressed by wealth, inherently susceptible to anyone associated with privilege.
Even though Luna's mother was merely the wife of the Sterling heir's secretary, my mother saw her through a thick lens of "old money" glamour.
Combined with Luna's mother's calculated friendliness, my mother quickly poured out her heart, treating her like a long-lost sister.
I pretended not to notice, sticking rigidly to my regimen, exercise, learning, audiobooks, music.
It wasn't that I didn't want to avoid this woman—my mother had low standing in her own family.
From my birth until now, no relatives had visited. Going home wasn't an option.
I thought about changing suite, but I quickly dismissed it.
My mother was currently intoxicated by this manufactured "sisterhood."
No amount of fussing would make her move.
Besides, I needed Luna's mother's presence to keep Matriarch Sterling visiting.
Unable to escape, I stayed vigilant.
My fears were soon realized.
