Facade
Anna Virelli… my father’s wife and my stepmother.
She prided herself on showing my father how well she treated me. Behind his back, though, she worked tirelessly to undermine me, to twist his perception, and ruin my reputation.
To the world, she was the flawless wife: elegant, graceful, commanding without effort. But I knew better. I had felt the sting of her words and the brunt of her schemes.
My chest tightened at the thought. Breakfast with her was never just a meal. It was a performance, a game of careful words, measured smiles, and silent battles where I always ended up wounded.
“Can I not go?” I asked softly, almost pleading, hoping the butler might intervene.
He hesitated, eyes flickering with something like pity. “Miss… perhaps I could tell her I didn’t see you when I came to knock.”
The temptation to hide, to escape, surged through me. To lock the door and avoid her false warmth… freedom called.
I shook my head. “No. It’s fine,” I said, forcing steadiness into my voice. “I don’t want to put you in trouble.”
The butler bowed slightly and stepped aside.
I braced myself, fingers tightening around my schoolbag. My heart thudded reluctantly as I walked to the dining room. With each step, the game approached, the one I had no choice but to play.
The dining room glittered under the chandeliers.
The chandeliers gleamed overhead, crystal prisms scattering faint rainbows across the polished oak. Every surface gleamed with wealth, the silver cutlery, the candelabras but the room felt unwelcoming.
Anna sat near the head of the long table, her blonde hair perfect, pearl earrings glinting and her silk robe falling flawlessly over her shoulders. Her lips stretched into a warm smile, but her eyes cut like ice, scanning me from head to toe
“There you are, dear,” she said, voice syrupy sweet, a tone that could fool anyone who didn’t know her. “I was wondering if you’d come down. Sit, sit.”
I slid into my seat near the end of the table, keeping my distance deliberately. Athena sat opposite me, half-filled plate in front of her, laughter spilling lightly as she leaned against her chair.
“Mama, how was your vacation?” Athena asked, bright and eager. “You promised to tell me everything.”
Anna’s smile softened for a fraction of a second, her hand brushing Athena’s fingers in a gesture I knew was instinctive, rehearsed, perfected. “Oh, darling, it was lovely. The Riviera is breathtaking this time of year. The sea, the air… it felt like another world. I thought of you often. You would have loved the little shops, the dresses… I should have brought back more.”
Athena giggled, leaning forward. “Next time, take me with you.”
Anna laughed lightly, warm and musical. “Definitely, I will. You deserve to see the world.”
I kept my hands in my lap, fingers curling, nails digging faint impressions into my skin. The ache of invisibility pressed into my chest. They were the perfect mother-daughter pair, and I was outside their orbit.
Anna’s gaze eventually shifted to me. Her lips curved into a practiced smile, warm but never quite reaching her eyes.
“How has school been, Lana?” she asked, voice carefully gentle, almost mocking.
I let out a short, flat laugh. “Father isn’t here yet,” I said, my stomach twisting. “No need to start pretending now. It makes me sick.”
Her expression faltered for a heartbeat, an unguarded flicker of shock before the mask returned.
Athena gasped, her eyes wide. “You’re getting ruder, Lana! You have zero manners at all.”
I smiled, but not out of amusement. “I didn’t get a proper upbringing,” I said softly, almost like a confession, tilting my head. “I mean… look at who raised me.”
Color rose in Anna’s cheeks. For a moment, she looked ready to erupt, mouth opening, then closing as she swallowed fury.
“Lana! You little bastar…”
The scrape of heavy footsteps cut her off. My father entered the room and calmly asked.
“What’s happening here?”
Anna’s posture shifted instantly. Lips curling into the practiced, soft smile he adored, eyes flicking to him like nothing had happened. “Oh honey, nothing is wrong,” she said smoothly.
The maids moved quickly, uncovering steaming dishes, filling plates. Silverware clinked against porcelain. Athena chattered on, light and careless, but I barely heard her.
After a few bites, the food tasted like ash. I pushed back my chair, the scrape sharp in the quiet. “I’m full,” I said.
Anna looked up immediately. “Are you sure, dear?” Her tone was saccharine and almost suffocating.
I swallowed, keeping my composure. “Yes. I have schoolwork to attend to,” I said politely, forcing a nod. “Thank you, Mrs. Anna.”
Her smile faltered, just for a fraction of a second, and then she said nothing.
I left the room without looking back. They can continue their performance.