Chapter 5-Cruel Parents

Malia Morris P. O. V

"Bianca, where have you been??" Amanda, my biological mother, asked. Her eyes were blazing in anger but I kept my composure, channeling Bianca's demeanor.

"Oh, I've just been away for a bit. I'm taking some time to relax." I replied. My heart raced as I tried to be cold, stoic, and calculating.

Amanda's face turned red with rage. "A bit?" she repeated, her voice rising. "You've been gone for months, Bianca! We thought you were dead!"

I'm a bit surprised that I didn't flinch, didn't blink. I just kept my expression frozen, "I'm now back. But don't expect me to apologize for my absence. I did what I had to do." I said in a low tone.

Amanda's face twisted in anger, and before I could react, her hand came flying towards my face. The slap was loud and stinging, leaving my cheeks burning.

"How dare you! You refused to take our calls, refusing to join the runways. You've embarrassed us, Bianca. You've embarrassed our entire family!" Amanda spat.

My eyes watered from the slap but I refused to show any weakness. I composed myself and let out a cold, sarcastic laugh.

"Poor mommy, you're so hurt because I didn't conform to your expectations. You're so angry because I didn't jump at the chance to prance around a catwalk, selling my soul to the highest bidder." I said my voice dripping with disdain.

I noticed Timothee's eyes narrowed, his concern was evident but I ignored him and kept my focus on my parents. I know I don't have the right to reprimand them for their bad parenting but I don't want to miss the opportunity to defend my sister, who's been suffering all this time.

"You know, I've realized something." I continued, my voice rising, "All of you only care about one thing, your interests. You don't care about you're daughter's well-being and happiness. You only care about how I can make you look good, how I can further your careers."

Amanda was taken aback, she couldn't utter a word and Frederick, my father interjected, "That's not true, Bianca. We only want what's best for you."

I turned to him and scoffed, “What's best for me? You have no idea what's best for me. You never have. You've always pushed me to be something I'm not, to conform to your standards." I stood tall and my shoulders squared, feeling a fire ignited inside my soul.

"Well, I've got news for you. I'm not your puppet anymore. I'm not your little supermodel who's going to dance on strings for your amusement." I said coldly.

The room fell silent, then Timothee stepped forward, "I'm so sorry, Mr. Frederick and Madame Amanda, Bianca is so exhausted and she needs some rest." Timothee gave me a knowing look.

With that, I turned and walked away, leaving my parents behind. The moment I entered Bianca's room, I collapsed onto the bed. I let go of the anger and adrenaline wash out of my system.

Just as I was starting to calm down, Timothee stood in front of me. "What you did was so stupid. You shouldn't have spoken to them like that."

I looked at him and he made me flare up in anger, "You don't understand, Timothee. You're her fiancé, and you're supposed to be on her side. Not theirs." I dictated.

"Don't talk to me like that. You're just starting but you're already showing your weakness." Timothee grunted.

"You don't know what it feels to be in my sister's shoes, to be treated like a possession, a tool. You don't know what it's like to be trapped in a life where you have no voice, no control." I retorted.

"I know you're trying to help your sister but you can't keep pretending to be her without boundaries. You have to remember that you're just pretending and you can't let your emotions get the better of you." Timothee seriously said.

My anger began to dissipate, replaced by sadness, "Timothee, she's dying, and nobody even knows it. Not even our parents. She can't even defend herself from this chaotic life. I just can't keep quiet. I can't take it. I won't stand by and let her suffer." I started to cry again.

Timothee approached me and locked me in his arms. Tears streamed down my face as he held me close. "I know what you're feeling. I've witnessed Bianca being imprisoned in a life where she's never been loved, never been supported by her parents. That's why I'm here, I stayed by her side, trying to give the love she needed." he said.

"So you have to remember your limits. You don't know everything about her, but I'm the one who knows. So you should listen to me."

I felt a weight lift off my shoulders, I knew I had done the right thing defending my sister, even if it meant going against Timothee's advice. But deep inside, I regretted that I let my emotions consume me that I didn't think clearly.

"I'm sorry, Timothee. I'll try to be more careful. But I hope you have to understand I'm doing this for my sister because I love her." I said and wiped my tears away.

"I do understand, Malia. But you have to listen to me. You have to stay in character and everything will fall in the right place." Timothee looked at me with a soft expression.

I'm relieved Timothee was here to comfort me. I had done it. I had pulled off the deception and my parents had no idea I wasn't Bianca.

As I lay on the bed, my cheek still stinging from the slap, I realized that I had underestimated the complexity of my sister's life. Bianca's cold exterior was just a shield, a protection from the hurt and anger that simmered beneath.

I had a lot to learn, to uncover, if I was going to keep up with this charade. I'm determined to see it through, to uncover the secrets my sister Bianca had kept hidden for so long.