[Sorry for being adopted.]
Those were the words Connie was staring at in that exact moment.
The one who had written them was none other than the girl who had hugged her tightly just seconds ago, terrified of her father.
After their earlier discussion, Connie already suspected something had happened between those two.
Her father was not the kind of person to ask personal questions, and neither was her mother. That was why most of them had no idea how Connie's school life really was.
They only knew she had good grades, was a diligent student, and put effort into her studies.
But now her father was actively probing Asha with an investigative look Connie had never seen before, even trying to persuade her.
And Asha's state at that moment was clearly unstable. Normally, she would only cling to Connie like a body pillow while sleeping, if you ignored the small pat she had given her in the car before.
But now she held on so tightly that she nearly slipped from her chair rather than let her go.
Truthfully, Connie was very happy. Asha looked even cuter than usual, and she had never hugged anyone like that before, especially not in public.
Yet she had done it here, in front of others, even if out of panic. That meant Asha saw her as someone reliable now. Maybe not on the same level as her mother, but the future did not look as dark as it once had.
Maybe, just maybe, they could really get along well in the near future.
She just had not expected to see such words in Asha's notebook.
Connie glanced at Asha's clumsy attempt to engage with her dad.
Her questions were so abrupt and direct that even Connie, always buried in books, could have done better.
But what stood out was that, for Asha, such words were unthinkable. She was actually stringing together more than three words per sentence, which was rare.
She seemed genuinely determined to build a good relationship, but her self-deprecating words crept in at the end.
The first thing Connie felt was not anger like Doug's, nor indignation like Priyanka's, when she discovered Asha's situation.
What she felt was pity, empathy, and a twinge of guilt.
Because more than once, she had envied Asha's circumstances, the way she seemed to receive everyone's attention, as though the world revolved around her like she was the protagonist of some story.
Asha always appeared so perfect and distant, with her stoic, composed expression.
That perception had only started to unravel a few weeks ago.
The once-perfect Asha began to look more human. Not just because she was cute, but because she was struggling like anyone else.
Connie, being an avid reader, was all too familiar with tropes. One of the biggest flaws writers faced when creating fiction was making their characters too perfect.
How many times had she read stories where protagonists were so flawless that every problem seemed to resolve itself with the tiniest of their actions?
Connie could not relate to those characters because she was far from perfect. Still, she understood why they were written that way. People wanted characters they could admire, and few tolerated mistakes. No writer wanted their creation to be hated.
To her, Asha had once been just like those perfect characters, both inside and out.
But through those insecure words, Connie saw the truth. In the cuts Asha made in her room, she revealed her instability. In the desperate embrace, she revealed her dependence. And in the gentle touch she gave in the car, she showed her kindness and understanding.
This Asha, compared to the flawless image Connie had first known, was like water and wine. The face remained the same, but the essence was entirely different.
And because of this slightly warmer image, an innocent thought arose in Connie's mind.
'She's like me.'
Perhaps, being a reader herself, Connie was trying to read Asha like one of her book characters, trying to understand her and slip into her shoes.
And the more she consciously tried to understand her, the stronger the emotions that stirred within her subconscious.
At that moment, Connie approached Asha without the trace of embarrassment that had been there before.
With light steps, she crouched down, positioning herself slightly below eye level. She carefully placed the notebook on her thighs and looked directly at Asha's silent figure.
She noticed the anxiety in Asha's hands and the reluctant gleam in her eyes.
It wasn't hard to guess that Asha didn't want her to see what she had seen. Connie also kept a diary filled with her private thoughts; if it were exposed, she wouldn't even be able to look her parents in the eye.
That was why Connie knew she needed to be cautious with her words.
She might not have been the best emotional support since she didn't have much experience, but she could still share her point of view.
"I don't think you should worry about that."
In short, these were Connie's honest thoughts. Asha didn't have to worry about being adopted. After all, it had been her mother who had proactively made that decision. Given Asha's personality, perhaps she had simply accepted it without saying a word.
"Although Dad may seem a little distant, he's not a bad guy; you don't need to be afraid of him."
Her father was often absent, but he was hardly someone who would harm others. Many of Connie's moral principles had come from him because he was deeply committed to his values.
In some ways, Connie was even grayer than her father. She didn't act solely based on principles, but rather on her own observations.
She was more emotional than her mother, yet colder than Doug. And perhaps it was this balance that allowed her to approach the situation calmly without being overly intrusive.
Connie didn't rush to act or try to justify her beliefs. Instead, she sought evidence in reality. In other words, she carefully analyzed how Asha reacted to her words.
But even after she spoke, Asha remained tense. That showed the problem didn't necessarily lie in the situation itself, but in something deeper.
[I know.]
Asha's response only confirmed Connie's suspicions. If Asha already knew these things, then the real issue had to be elsewhere.
To solve the problem, Connie needed to understand where it was coming from.
"What made you say that to Dad?"
If she could get an answer to that question, she might be able to help. But what Connie didn't realize was that there was no way Asha could truly respond.
[...]
Asha's hands gripped the pencil, scribbling on the paper again and again. Before finishing a word, she would erase it and start over.
This went on for several minutes until finally, something managed to take shape.
[Sorry.]
That single word was all she wrote, small yet heavy with meaning.
It wasn't that she thought her father was a bad person, but she still reacted that way when he touched her.
And when asked about it, she couldn't explain why. What could make someone avoid saying the truth?
If Connie had been in her place, she knew it would have been discomfort. She didn't have the courage to tell her parents everything about her circumstances, and maybe Asha felt the same.
Their bond wasn't deep enough for that level of trust. Perhaps it was still too soon.
But even silence was an answer. If Asha was aware of her own condition, then something outside her rational control was influencing her. Probably trauma.
The real question now was something else. Where had such trauma come from, and what exactly was it?
Suddenly, her mother's words from the first time she met Asha resurfaced in her mind.
A while after she fainted in her arms, her mother had a small chat with Connie about her little sister's circumstances.
This was the only moment her mother ever spoke about the topic. She would only work silently on this matter otherwise.
She explained that Asha had gone through some difficult experiences, which was why she adopted her. At the time, what frustrated Connie was how little her mother had told her. It wasn't enough, and she should have grown suspicious, yet she didn't.
Maybe her mother hadn't talked more about it because she felt Connie wasn't ready.
When Connie was a young kid, she once watched a spooky show that gave her nightmares for several nights. At that time, she could only sleep with the lights on and in the company of her parents.
Since then, her mother censored most of the content she watched, though even Connie thought this was a bit excessive. She would be eleven soon, and most things that had affected her before now seemed trivial.
But in her mother's eyes, she was still just a child, unable to endure or discuss such topics. But even though she was reserved about talking about horror topics, her mother was still quite blunt about more mundane matters.
She would teach her anatomy, first aid, and tell her about some professional experiences with little filter, showing Connie the reality of the world.
But when it came to Asha, her response was only one, silence. This suggested that Asha's trauma field bordered on something out of the ordinary.
Probably a severe case of abuse, both physical and mental. When Asha hugged her, she had also moved her legs. Connie hadn't thought much about it at the time, but thinking about it now, it felt strange.
Her inability to walk wasn't completely obstructed; with enough stimulation, she could move them. This suggested that her physical condition might have a mental component.
Connie covered her mouth slightly in shock at her thoughts.
Because if that were the case, many other things would also become suspect.
For example, her inexpressiveness might not be natural but rather acquired. At first, Connie compared Asha to the protagonist of the book Golden Girl, a girl who was a blank slate and influenced by her bear family.
But that was clearly not the case with Asha. She wasn't an inexpressive child, but one brimming with emotions. She must have had a long, complex past behind her, one her mother was reluctant to reveal, as if hoping she would simply forget and lose interest in the subject.
Connie's eyes grew serious as she noticed her mother's evasive behavior and linked her own thoughts to her father's investigative way of thinking.
'Dad must have reached the same conclusion.'
Connie had learned to investigate from her father, so it wasn't surprising they both arrived at similar ideas.
But unlike Doug, Connie had even more information.
Her eyes fell on Asha's knees, which bore faint marks of blood after she had rubbed them on the floor. She could faintly see the wounds closing at an unnatural speed.
At the end of the day, would those wounds remain? What about her wrists, which didn't even bear a scar? That was suspicious.
And what about the room that had been filled with blood for a moment and then suddenly returned to normal? In the past, Connie had only convinced herself she might have exaggerated the situation, even though it had all seemed very real.
After all, visual evidence tends to be flawed.
But a new idea came to her mind. What if even that event hadn't been just her imagination?
Little by little, a small hypothesis began to take shape.
Asha watched with trembling eyes as Connie followed her father's mental path and gradually explored her mother's hidden thoughts.
A hypothesis created from real evidence, conjecture, and probability formed in her mind.
Everything pointed toward absurd words like "experimental subject".
However, there was just one detail. As intelligent as Connie was, she was still only ten years old. She wasn't as grounded in reality as adults.
So even though she went through the same thought process, her conclusion was slightly different.
'Was Asha some kind of magical being, like that lion?'
She didn't try to justify it with science or reality, but with something completely illogical: magic.
And accidentally, she became the closest person to the truth.
It was as if all the pieces were finally falling into place.
She knew very well that this conclusion might be a bit hasty, but if Asha was also a magical being, it would not be strange to use that as an explanation for the unusual events surrounding her.
Connie looked at Asha with a mix of worry and expectation. If it were true, she wanted to understand more about the principles behind such powers. The word magic was especially charming to a child.
Considering that Asha maintained a human form, could one of her parents have been magical while the other was human? Asha did not seem to have lived much differently from a human being, nor did she behave unlike one.
What else could she do besides super-regeneration? Did Asha have full control over her powers, or did she simply not fully understand them?
What led Connie to think Asha might still be immature was the fact that her mentality remained mostly childish, and she did not seem to demonstrate any abilities beyond her natural biological powers.
Of course, there was also the possibility that she had not shown them because she feared her true identity would be revealed to her parents.
Considering the abuse Asha had endured, her current condition must in some way be connected to her powers.
Perhaps she had been exploited because of this magical origin, making her fearful of anyone discovering it, forcing her to hide it from everyone around her.
She probably had not revealed this information to her mother yet, since she was even keeping her distance, as if avoiding her for some reason.
The more Connie poked at this thought, the more possibilities surfaced. A part of her mind whispered that it could all just be unfounded speculation, but deep down, she was already convinced she was right.
While lost in thought, she forgot something important. She had been crouched there the whole time, staring at Asha with wide eyes like a child who had just solved the world's greatest riddle. They were in the middle of an important conversation, yet she remained silent, lost in herself.
Asha was already showing signs of discomfort, clutching her notebook tightly as she stared back at Connie.
Seeing this, Connie's thoughts immediately cooled. Asha was still very sensitive right now, and if she became a figure of fear, the bond they had built so far would be shattered.
If her suspicions were true, Asha was probably tense, hiding her secrets from her family, fearing rejection or being studied, while still carrying her old trauma.
Connie needed to prove she was a trustworthy older sister and handle this in a mature way.
"You do not need to apologize; everyone has secrets."
The first thing Connie did was feign ignorance with a straight face.
She gave a warm, understanding smile, which made Asha feel even more alienated.
[Aren't you curious?]
It was so suspicious that even Asha herself seemed to be asking if Connie did not want to know more. But Connie, knowing that pressing further would only make her uncomfortable, refused without hesitation.
"You can tell me when you feel comfortable."
Her words sounded like they came straight from a textbook, so perfect that they almost invited suspicion. Asha watched her for a long moment before reluctantly accepting the situation, realizing Connie would not say anything more.
[Thank you.]
Connie just smiled at Asha's small gesture of gratitude, as if she had narrowly avoided a major problem.
"How about we go pay for this book first?"
She tried to change Asha's focus by mentioning the book. But this only stirred another question in Asha's mind.
[And your book?]
Only then did Connie remember that she had intended to buy a book before. In fact, the whole problem had started because of that decision.
"I don't need it anymore."
Connie decided to drop the matter. One reason was that searching for another good book would only tire Asha out, and another was that she genuinely felt she no longer needed one.
[Really?]
Asha found this abrupt change in attitude strange, since Connie had been so proactive before.
"Mhm! Really."
Connie just nodded, her spirits a little brighter than usual.
She got up and walked to the wheelchair, pushing it as if she had no worries at all. Asha looked clearly uneasy at the sight; something definitely wasn't right.
'Would things really work out this way? With no side effects?' She mulled over such worries in her little mind.
As for Connie, it was doubtful whether she noticed the turmoil stirring in Asha's thoughts.
The only thing Connie could think about now was the wealth of research she would have from this moment onward.
She certainly loved books, but right now her younger sister seemed far more interesting than any book.
If Asha could read her thoughts, it was doubtful even this momentary gratitude would last.
Fortunately, both of them were experts at living inside their own minds.
The consequences of that day's silence would only be felt much later.
Until then, the Maheswarans' peaceful life continued.
*
Author's note
This chapter was so hard to write, but thank God I survived. I'm counting on your power stones, UwU.
If you can, please help with a comment or review. And here's a flower 🌹
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