Chapter 147

Amber bit her lip, her head drooping. But the moment she heard Siema’s voice, she looked up, her eyes meeting Sienna’s beautiful face. “Nenna, I had a nightmare. I’m too scared to sleep by myself. Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Her voice was soft and sweet, but there was a nervous little quiver in it, like she was afraid Sienna might turn her down.

Sienna felt her heartstrings tug, her eyes lighting up just a bit. She couldn’t help but melt inside—Amber was just too adorable when she acted all clingy like this.

As soon as she finished, Amber bit her lower lip, her face turning red with embarrassment. She felt like she’d been tricked—her pouty act wasn’t working at all.

Two hours ago, Chire had taught her how to act cutesy, saying that as long as she did, no one could resist her.

Amber’s long lashes fluttered as she pouted, her lips sticking out. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I guess…”

“Alright, you can sleep with me tonight,” Sienna said gently.

Amber’s face instantly lit up, practically bursting with excitement. “Really, Sienna?” Her short hair was all fluffy, probably just washed.

“Of course you can. You’re my little sister—get in here,” Sienna said, ruffling her hair.

Amber’s smile widened, her face lighting up with joy. “Sienna, you’re the best. I love you so, so much!”

Getting a taste of how well her cuteness worked, Amber just kept turning up the charm. Honestly, she was a natural at this—her soft cheeks and short hair made her look extra adorable, and her eyes always held a hint of silly innocence.

Sienna reached out and gently pinched her cheek. “If you ever can’t sleep again, just come find me, okay?”

“Sure,” Amber nodded.

What Amber didn’t know was that even if she hadn’t acted all cute and clingy, Sienna would have said yes anyway.

That night, for once, Winifred actually slept well—just because of one simple explanation from Sienna.

She really lost her memory for ten years? Was that why she never came looking for me? Winifred tried to convince herself, her heart wavering between relief and doubt.

In her dreams, tears slid down her cheeks. Her little black snake, sensing something was wrong, slithered off her wrist and curled up on the nightstand, flicking its tongue and watching her closely.

“Winifred, didn’t you have an appointment with the tattoo artist today? Let’s go together. What are you getting? A gun! I want one too,” a girl pestered in Winifred’s ear.

“Back off. You’re annoying!” Winifred snapped.

“Alright, Winifred,” the girl replied, backing off quickly.

Winifred threw on her jacket, shoved her hands in her pockets, and strolled down the street with a laid-back attitude, walking like she owned the place. People quickly moved out of her way as soon as they saw her coming.

One little boy burst into tears right then and there—after all, Winifred had personally shattered his dream of becoming a rough bandit, and his bottom still stung from the last time she’d smacked him.

“Whoa! Wicked Wunde!”

Winifred scoffed, bent down, pinched his cheek, yanked the lollipop out of his mouth, and tossed it straight into the trash. Then she stuck out her hand. “Hand it over.”

The little boy looked confused for a second, pursed up his face, and Winifred took two steps back in disgust. “Get out of my sight. Now,” she ordered. She had completely lost her appetite for candy now.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Winifred! What, got kicked out and now you’re stuck hanging around here? I heard you’ll do anything for cash these days, hussy,” someone taunted from nearby.

A luxury car pulled up at the corner, looking totally out of place here. A girl stepped out, dressed head to toe in designer brands, her hair in loose curls as she fussed with it while walking.

“Who’s this curly-haired brat yapping in front of me? You got a death wish or what?” Winifred shot back, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Winifred, how dare you talk to me like that! Do you even know who my dad is?” the girl snapped, her face turning red with anger as she glared at Winifred.

Winifred stuck a finger in her ear, looking bored. “Spare me the introductions. I’m not interested in being your mom.”