Chapter Five: Two faced

Elena's pov

Before I could answer, before my mother could speak, Sophie took the dress from my hands. She held it against herself in front of the tall mirror near the window, turning so the light caught the beading. Then she glanced over her shoulder at Adrian with a playful little smile.

“Does it suit me better, do you think?”

Adrian’s gaze moved from Sophie to me. He noticed the way my expression had tightened. I watched him misread it completely,another attempt to start an argument, another overreaction.

Sophie noticed his attention and deliberately made the moment worse. She pretended to struggle with the dress, adjusting it against her body, then let out a small, embarrassed laugh.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Elena. I didn’t realize you wanted it so badly. I only thought we could share.”

She pressed the gown against her chest as though she were the one being inconvenienced. Victoria looked uncomfortable. “Sophie, give Elena the dress back, please.”

Sophie turned the moment into a performance of self-sacrifice so quickly it was almost elegant.

“It’s fine. Elena can have it. I wouldn’t want her to think I’m taking something else away from her.”

The words were carefully chosen. They made me sound jealous and unreasonable without Sophie ever having to accuse me directly.

Adrian stepped forward, already trying to smooth everything over.

“Elena, why don’t you pick another dress? There are plenty here. Sophie didn’t mean anything by it.”

I stared at him.

He was offering to replace the dress rather than asking Sophie why she had taken it in the first place. Once again he treated my hurt as the problem and Sophie’s behavior as something that should be excused.

For a moment the old urge rose,to tell him exactly what I thought, to force him to see the pattern. I swallowed it. Arguing would only give Sophie another opportunity to play the victim, another soft, wounded story for Adrian to believe.

I looked at the dress still held against Sophie’s body. Then at my mother.

“It’s fine, Mom. I’m hungry. I’ll choose something later.”

Victoria hesitated, sensing something wrong, but I was already turning away.

Adrian’s voice followed me, irritation creeping into the edges.

“Elena, we’re trying to make this easy for you.”

I did not stop walking.

“Then stop making decisions for me.”

The room fell silent behind me. The first time I had deliberately refused to participate in his attempts to smooth things over. I did not shout. I did not plead. I simply withdrew my attention and kept moving.

Sophie hurried after me. She caught up just enough to speak in a soft, distressed voice calculated to reach Adrian.

“Elena, please don’t be upset with me. I didn’t mean to cause another argument between you and Adrian. I didn't mean to.”

I stopped briefly but did not turn around.

Sophie continued, voice growing more fragile.

“I know things have been difficult since you found out you’re moving. I would never want you to think I’m trying to take your place in this family.”

I turned my head slightly. Just enough.

“You don’t need to take my place, Sophie. You’ve already made yourself comfortable in it.”

She went quiet for a fraction of a second. The remark landed too close to the truth. Then she composed herself with practiced speed.

Adrian stepped in before she could respond.

“That’s enough, Elena. Sophie is apologizing. You don’t have to make everything difficult.”

I looked at him one last time. Searched his face for even a trace of doubt, a flicker of uncertainty that maybe,just maybe,he was beginning to see the pattern.

There was none.

He would keep defending her as long as doing so remained easier than questioning the woman he had known his entire life.

“Don’t worry, Adrian. I won’t make anything difficult for you again.”

I left before he could answer.

The kitchen was empty when I entered. I finally allowed myself to breathe. Rather than waiting for the household staff, I took out a packet of plain noodles, filled a small pot with water, and set it on the stove. The ordinary act felt strangely comforting.

No expensive dinner table. No forced smiles. No Sophie pretending innocence.

No Adrian telling me how I should feel.

I carried the bowl to the kitchen table and began eating. For a few minutes the mansion was quiet around me. I thought about the temporary apartment, the jobs I could apply for, how much easier it might be to live somewhere nobody knew me as Adrian Williams’s stepsister.

Then the kitchen door opened.

Sophie walked in.

She went straight to the refrigerator, took out a bottle of water, and poured herself a glass. I kept eating, refusing to acknowledge her presence. She watched me for a moment before taking the chair opposite mine. She drank some water, set the glass down, and leaned back as if she had come for an ordinary conversation.

“You know, Elena,” she said lightly, “I’ve always wondered about something.”

I did not look up.

“Then keep wondering.”

Sophie smiled faintly, unfazed.

“Why does it bother you so much when Adrian chooses me?”

My fingers tightened around the fork. She noticed immediately. Of course she did.

“You get upset when we’re together. You hate it when he defends me. And today, when he held your hand, you looked at him as though you wanted him to say something else.”

I finally lifted my eyes.

Sophie leaned forward. The sweetness in her expression sharpened into something colder underneath.

“Tell me something, Elena.”

She paused, allowing the silence to stretch between us until it felt almost physical.

“Are you in love with Adrian?”