Ever since returning to the James family, nothing seemed to go her way. Honestly, life was simpler-and in many ways, better-back in her hometown.
Back then, whenever she came home from school, Patti would have the table set with all her favorite dishes. The moment she walked through the door, the comforting aroma of home-cooked food would greet her, hot and ready. Sometimes she worried it was too much trouble for Patti, but at least she was never left hungry —unlike this grand house, where she could go hours with no one even noticing.
"It's not safe out after dark. Why don't you just stay in tonight?" Octavia's voice had a faint edge, as if she could hardly see the point of Cindy stepping out for a walk.
There was a garden right outside, after all—a lush, private space she could enjoy without ever leaving. Why bother going farther?
"If she wants to stretch her legs, let her," Latham cut in, not unkindly. "Don't treat her like a child. She's an adult now." He believed in giving her space; after all, she'd only just come back to the family, and they weren't exactly close. Try to control her too tightly and she'd only resent them.
Octavia sighed, conceding, but couldn't help herself: "Fine, but stay close to the house. Don't go wandering off. It just isn't safe for a young woman to be out alone at night."
Cindy simply nodded in agreement, noncommittal.
“So,” Lance chimed in suddenly, "shouldn't Cindy get started on her driving lessons? School exams are over, and it'd be much easier if she could drive herself around."
The question caught Cindy off guard. She instinctively glanced over at Octavia, who hadn't mentioned anything about learning to drive.
Noting the look from her daughter, Octavia frowned, realizing it had slipped her mind. "She really should," she replied briskly. "But she's still upset over her finals. We'll arrange something once she's had more time to recover."
The truth was, Octavia hadn't thought about it at all.
Once Cindy was out the door, she called a cab and headed straight for the food stalls clustered near her old high school. Though finals had just ended, the night market was still packed-bright lights, sizzling grills, the hum of voices. Here, she could lose herself in greasy street food without anyone looking at her with judgment. Meanwhile, trouble was brewing at the James family estate, but Cindy hadn't heard a thing about it. It wasn't until she was halfway through a skewer of grilled chicken that her phone buzzed: Rose was calling.
"Hey, Cindy, what are you up to?" Rose's tone was teasing, not warm.
A clatter of voices and frying pans buzzed through the phone. "What's so loud over there?" Rose asked.
"I'm at the night market," Cindy replied simply.
"The night market? Isn't your family in the middle of a huge scandal? How can you still have the appetite to go out eating?" Rose scoffed inwardly. No matter how wealthy
Cindy's family was, you couldn't take the country girl out of the girl. Still hanging around street food? She'd never make it in high society-not if she kept these habits.
"What scandal? What are you talking about?" Cindy genuinely had no clue.
Rose almost didn't believe her. How
could Cindy not know? The James family's trouble was all anyone in their circle could talk about-the rumors of bankruptcy, the ugly secrets from the past dragged back into the light. Cindy was the family's daughter was it possible she'd truly been kept in the dark?
Was her family shielding her so tightly she hadn't heard a word?
"Cindy, I'm seriously worried about you. If you're upset, you can always talk to us. There's no need to pretend everything is fine."
"The James family is basically bankrupt—every skeleton in the closet has been aired out, and now everyone's piling on. And you mean to tell me you didn't know?"
"Are we really friends to you, Cindy?"
Cindy's face went sheet-white. "What do you mean, bankrupt?"
She was telling the truth-she hadn't known any of it.
Now Rose was just intrigued. From the sound of Cindy's voice, she wasn't taking it. With a small smirk, Rose decided to send her a news
article and let the story speak for itself.