Forsythia had no idea that he would really notice something, she knew that it was not a believable story that she made up on the spot.. "Now I have to tell another lie.. baby bird, I think dad already suspects the authenticity of what I said.."
Aldric rolled his eyes and scoffed "Squeak... hmph, this is what you get for being so stupid.."
"But.. it was you who told me to say that, I thought you'd know how to make up stories.." She argued back.
Baby bird turned his head away from her to hide his embarrassment, and chirped in a tiny voice through telepathy "Who said I was any good with telling lies? Squeak.."
Forsythia wasn't able to hear what he said and looked at her dad as she told him another lie "Um.. dad, I was just feeling like eating an apple.. I ate on time.."
The late-afternoon sun spilled through the tall windows, painting the office in a soft, golden glow.
His secretory had brought over a tray with a cup of tea for Heather and a chocolate milkshake for Forsythia in the meantime.
Heather watched her over the rim of his tea cup, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. He knew she was lying—obviously—but he let it go, the way one might let a paperclip slip off the edge of a desk.
"Alright," he said at last, setting the cup down with a gentle clink. "Now that we've got the whole story about the ring and all that…"
He leaned forward and asked while looking in her eyes softly. "I want to ask you about this engagement you mentioned."
He sat there, framed by light, his expression calm but unreadable. She could feel the weight of his silence, pressing her to speak.
"When I came home yesterday after my tutoring class," she began, her voice low, "she… Mom suddenly said she'd fixed my engagement. That I'd be getting engaged tomorrow. Which is… today."
She hesitated. The sunlight seemed suddenly too warm, too heavy. A scene from another life flickered in her mind — the same words, the same suffocating inevitability.
"She said I should be grateful," the girl continued, her tone tightening, "that someone agreed to marry me even after knowing I have no superpowers. That I'm a… useless thing she regretted giving birth to."
Her fingers twisted together in her lap, nails biting into skin. "When I said I didn't want to be engaged to someone I haven't even met — someone whose face I haven't seen before, whose personality I can't guess, who might treat me however he pleases… when I told her I still wanted to study, to… to actually do something with my life…"
She drew a sharp breath, steadying her voice. "She told me to shut up. To obey. Said I was nothing but a money-loosing burden. That if she'd known she was going to give birth to something useless… she would have killed me before I was born."
The office went very still. The ticking of the wall clock seemed suddenly loud, each second stretching like a taut wire.
He leaned back slightly, the leather of his sofa chair sighing under the motion. "You mentioned tutoring classes earlier," he said, voice leveled but with an edge that made her sit straighter. "What was that about? Why would you need to give lessons to others?"
She lowered her eyes, her voice softening. "One day… a few years ago, when I asked for money life usual, she told me she didn't have any money for my daily expenses. That if I needed anything, I'd have to earn it myself. So… I've been tutoring others for the past five years."
His eyes stilled. His jaw tightened — just enough to make the skin along his cheeks pull taut. He picked up the cup to take a sip of tea before setting it down with deliberate care, the faint tap against the desk sounding far sharper than it should have.
His knuckles whitened briefly as his fingers curled together, then relaxed, folding neatly. A slow breath slipped from him, controlled and measured, yet heavy enough to betray the weight behind it.
"I see," he said softly. Too softly.
His eyes locked on hers — not wild with anger, but cold, steady, and sharp enough to cut through steel.
After a heavy pause he started again "That explains why the number of times you answered my calls became less and less with time,
why every time when i asked you how were doing," His eyes filled with tears, he continued "You said you were fine.. even when you were not.. did you trust your father so little that you kept all this from me?"
"No dad.. I-" Forsythia wanted to tell him that it was not true, but stopped when she heard him say "Please forgive me for being incompetent.. a failure of a father.. who couldn't even see through his daughter.. I'm sorry my dear.. I should've been there for you, but I.."
Forsythia shook her head in denial as tears spilled her eyes.. Her mouth opened but no words came out..
There was a silence for a while as they both wiped their tears.. "I never even doubted your mother with you.. it turns out, the money I sent your mother in your name, never reached you.. and you were left alone to find ways to support yourself.." Heather spoke with great difficulty as guilt seeped through his heart..
Forsythia saw her father like this and reached out her hands to hold his.. she gave him a reassuring smile and said softly "It's fine dad.. I never blamed you.. it's not your fault.. you are the best dad someone could ask for.. sniff.. and if you feel any good or less burdened, then I can only say that I forgive you.. so that you don't blame yourself for all this.. okay?"
"Thank you," he nodded his head and said, voice even. "For telling me everything.. and forgiving me." even thought he said that, he still felt like he had to have a 'nice chat' with Cynthia, his ex-wife.
The air felt heavier now, as if the sunlight itself had dimmed. She wasn't sure whether the sudden quiet in the room was safety… or the calm before a storm.
***