"It's Felicia again!" Myra grumbled inwardly. She was extremely frustrated. Felicia had previously overpowered Kayla and slapped her repeatedly in the car, simply because of something Kayla had said. Myra suspected Felicia was responsible for Kayla's forehead injury, again over some trivial matter. It made her wonder what she had done to deserve such an impulsive, troublesome daughter.
Myra was about to scold Felicia, but Sebastian intervened. "Mom, we just arrived. We don't know what's happening. How can you be sure Felicia is at fault?" An unusual tension hung over the Walsh residence. Something serious had occurred; otherwise, Clive wouldn't have summoned everyone. However, Myra believed Felicia was the culprit.
She was irked. Despite trying to suppress her frustration, Myra exclaimed, "Sebastian, you don't know Felicia well. She's hot-tempered. This isn't the first time she's hit Kayla." Sebastian replied coldly, "Mom, do you know Felicia that well, then?"
His question struck her speechless. He had a point. Despite their familial connection, none of them, including Sebastian and Myra, truly knew Felicia.
Kayla, feeling hurt, whispered, "Sebastian, am I not your sister too?"
"No."
"Sebastian..." She was utterly disbelieving.
Sebastian, realizing his words were misleading, clarified, "I mean, you're my sister, and so is Felicia. However..." He paused, his gaze hardening. "Even if I'm your brother, I won't blindly take sides." He would treat both sisters equally, judging impartially based on the facts. His words also implied that he wouldn't tolerate wrongdoing from either of them.
"That sounds like a warning, no matter how I look at it," Kayla thought, inwardly displeased. Still, she knew better than to confront Sebastian. He was always this way—gentle and mild-mannered on the surface, yet guarded and not easily befriended.
Feigning obliviousness, Kayla said innocently, "You scared me! I thought you were trying to cut ties with me, Sebastian."
Sebastian remained silent, his gaze falling on Felicia, who stood apart from the group, silently staring at her hands, her head lowered. Her hands were still stained with Roberta's blood.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, darkness fell. Clive arrived, leading everyone to a quiet, beautifully decorated section of the courtyard, adorned with white flowers. There, among the flowers, lay Roberta.
Shock rippled through the gathering. Jake broke the silence, flabbergasted. "Isn't that Roberta? She seemed fine yesterday. Why is she...?"
All eyes turned to Harvey, Roberta's father. He reeked of alcohol, lipstick stains on his collar betraying a recent rendezvous. Still dazed by the sight of Roberta's body, he asked, "What happened?"