Chapter 5: The Convict’s Return

“What is this convict doing here?” Gavin’s voice came out low but sharp, carrying enough weight to silence the murmurs in the hall.

Every eye turned back to Julia, who stood under the bright light at the door like an uninvited ghost. “She’s a disgrace to the Reynolds family,” he said again, his tone now colder.

Bosco stepped forward with his usual air of arrogance. “Didn’t you say you were cutting ties with us for good?” he asked, his hands tucked in his pockets, chin lifted slightly. “So why crawl back now?”

Julia’s eyes met his without a word. There was no anger, no sadness, just an exhausted calm.

“Don’t stand there pretending to be mute,” Bosco continued, his voice dripping with mockery. “Save your theatrics, Julia. We’ve seen enough of your drama. Whatever game you’re trying to play this time, it won’t work. You’re just a convict, remember?”

Elliot stepped forward from the side, his voice louder and more vicious. “Exactly!” he barked, pointing an accusing finger at her. “A convict! You think you can walk in here as you like, embarrassing us in front of everyone? Get out of here, Julia! You’ve done enough damage!”

The hall went still again, guests watching with silent curiosity. Some whispered among themselves, some shook their heads.

But not one person dared to speak in her defence.

Bosco raised his hand as though to calm his brother. “Let her be,” he said with a smirk. “She’s already here. Maybe she just wants a bit of attention. Let’s give her that much.”

He turned to face Julia fully, scanning her from head to toe. “But seriously, Julia, if you want to fit in, shouldn’t you at least dress like you belong here?”

The corners of his mouth curled upward, mocking. “Or at least wear decent shoes?”

It was then that every head in the room turned again, this time, toward her sneakers. They were worn out, faded, one lace torn and barely hanging.

Her jeans were oversized, her shirt clearly not hers, probably borrowed from a man.

Soft laughter started somewhere at the back, then another followed, and another. The murmurs built like waves.

“She actually came here dressed like that?”

“Is this some kind of joke?”

“How embarrassing…”

Bosco folded his arms, pretending to be serious. “Why show up in those worn-out shoes, Julia? You trying to make a point?”

“Maybe she’s playing hard to get,” Elliot added sarcastically from the side, earning a few more chuckles. “This pity act of yours doesn’t work on us, Julia. You want our sympathy? Sorry, not this time.”

Bosco nodded along, clearly enjoying the attention. “He’s right,” he said. “If you want to fit in, go out there, find a decent dress and shoes, then come back. Maybe then we’ll talk.”

Julia finally moved. She lifted her head slowly and looked straight at him. Her voice was low but steady. “Two things,” she said. “First, I’m not here to ride on your coattails. And secondly—” she looked down briefly at her sneakers, then back up, “—these are the only shoes I have.”

The words landed like a quiet explosion.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Bosco blinked, surprised. “What are you talking about?” he asked, almost laughing. “I’ve bought so many shoes over the years. Why wouldn’t you have any to wear?”

Julia nodded slightly, cutting him short. “You did,” she said softly. “You bought many shoes. But not a single pair was ever given to me.”

The room fell dead silent again.

Bosco’s smile faded. “That’s ridiculous,” he muttered, glancing at the people watching.

Julia didn’t blink. “Is it?” she asked. “You stood right there, months ago, handing out gifts to everyone in this family. Everyone smiled and thanked you, except me because I didn’t receive a thing.”

***************

A few months earlier, Bosco had returned from a business trip with arms full of shopping bags. “I brought gifts!” he’d said proudly, placing them on the dining table. “Everyone gets a package!”

Laughter filled the house that day. Bella squealed as she unwrapped a new designer purse. Elliot grinned at his branded watch. Their parents exchanged small smiles as they admired theirs.

Only Julia had stood there quietly, watching. Waiting.

But when the last package was handed out, nothing came her way. No one even noticed her empty hands.

**********

Bosco had turned to his mother then, uneasy. “Mum, you must’ve bought something for Julia, right?” he asked. “Or maybe Dad did?”

But Megan barely looked up. “We’ve been too busy with work, Bosco,” she said lightly. “We didn’t have time for such trivial things.”

“Trivial?” Julia had whispered then, too softly for anyone to hear.

Bosco swallowed hard, trying to laugh it off. “Fine,” he said, forcing confidence into his tone. “Even if we forgot to buy you shoes, you could’ve bought your own. Don’t act like you’re starving.”

Julia’s lips curved in a faint, tired smile. “Bought with what?” she asked quietly. “When have you ever given me money?”

Her words hit harder than anyone expected.

Bosco opened his mouth, then shut it again. He looked around helplessly as though the answer might come from the air.

Gavin looked away, pretending not to hear. Megan’s hand froze midair, her glass trembling slightly.

Julia’s eyes moved slowly from one face to another—her father, her mother, her brothers, and finally Bella, who had her eyes lowered but a faint smirk on her lips.

“No answer?” Julia asked. “That’s fine. You don’t have to say anything. I already know.”

The hall was painfully quiet now. No one dared whisper anymore.

The guests stood frozen, caught between discomfort and disbelief.

At that moment, at the Hurst Corporation headquarters, the fourteen senior executives were already standing at attention.

The sound of Margaret Hurst’s heels echoed through the polished marble floor as she entered the hall, her face calm but commanding.

“Get the cars and the gifts ready!” she ordered sharply, adjusting the pearl brooch on her coat. “I’m attending my daughter’s celebration party!”

“Yes, Madam Hurst!” the executives chorused together with a deep bow.