(Why do you even bother dreaming when you don't have the guts to make it come true?)
(Just accept it. You'll always be under their thumb.)
(And you'll be doing their bidding until the day you—-)
Summerine shoved her Inner Troll into an imaginary closet and kicked the doors shut. The last thing she needed was a nonexistent entity pointlessly pointing out the obvious. She would be better off spending her last precious hours (minutes?) of freedom devising a way out—-
Or not.
Summerine could feel her lungs working overtime at the sight of her father impatiently waiting for them in the living room.
Her father, who was supposed to be thousands of miles away.
Her father, who was even more terrifying than Annie.
Like, a lot.
"Stop that."
Summerine jumped involuntarily at her father's tone, and his glare had her unclenching her fists in a hurry. George thought the mannerism unladylike and unbecoming, and she had never had the courage to tell him that she never meant to do it deliberately.
It only happened when she was anxious, and unfortunately for all of them, there was nothing more anxiety-inducing for Summerine than being in the presence of her parents.
George surveyed their surroundings with satisfaction. "You've done a very good job, Annie."
Their entire home had recently been featured by a local morning show, and her parents' costly remodeling had garnered praise from its hosts.
I've never seen 'ornate' done so tastefully!
The way they've woven red silk in every room is impressive!
And those Oriental lanterns, oh my!
To the whole of San Antonio, their penthouse apartment was a visual celebration of their Chinese-American heritage.
But to Summerine, it was nothing but her gilded prison.
And the only way to escape it...wasthat.
Everyone in the living room tensed at the sound of their front door opening and their butler showing their visitor in.
George suddenly gestured to Summerine. "Is it new?" he asked his wife under his breath.
"It's for an upcoming season. It hasn't even been released."
"Won't make a difference if he doesn't know that."
"Oh, he'll know," his wife said with confidence. "Once their engagement photos are released, the press won't be able to stop talking about it. This dress cost us many,manyfavors."
Summerine was used to her parents discussing her as if she wasn't there, mostly over their disappointment with the way she looked or didn't look. The way she talked or didn't talk.Et cetera, et cetera.
But what she wasn't used to at all was howbusiness-likethey sounded. It was as if all she was to them was an asset to sell to the highest bidder, and maybe...
Maybe that was the only reason they even had a child in the first place?
Their butler walked in, and Summerine's heart started pounding.
"Mr. Ryu Harcourt, sir."
