Emilia Sullivan refused to believe it and forcibly pulled her hand away, indeed revealing a palm print swelling on her tender skin. Flas of fury darted through her eyes as she asked with indignation,
"Who did this? Who hit you like this?"
Normally, Ghania might have been touched by such concern from her mother, but, at that mont, all she wanted was to downplay the incident and not make a bigger fuss.
So, she pulled Emilia Sullivan away, trying not to make a scene, and said with suppressed humiliation and pain, "Mom, I’m really fine, I just accidentally bumped into sothing, it’s nothing now..."
Before she could finish speaking, Emilia Sullivan suddenly interrupted her, suddenly asking, "Was it Nathalie?"
"Uh..." Ghania’s eyes flickered.
As Ghania’s gaze averted, Emilia Sullivan felt she had her answer, and the rage nearly took her to her breaking point. She was dying to confront Nathalie right away.
"What right does she have to hit you!"
She had never liked Nathalie; in their family, Nathalie was like an outsider—quiet, always wearing a stern face.
That would have been fine, but those eyes of hers sohow conveyed a sense of understanding, as if they could illuminate all the demons lurking in your heart!
Who would enjoy having soone like that around all the ti?
People say, even if you raise a dog for three to five years, you grow fond of it.
But no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t feel that way about Nathalie. Even after eighteen years of raising this ’bargain daughter,’ she felt nothing but aversion and disgust.
Today, the ’daughter’ she always resented and even despised disrespected them in front of half of McKinney’s social elite that they had invited, stomping on their face in public.
She was already seething with anger and embarrassnt.
And Nathalie even hit Ghania!
How could she tolerate this!
Nathalie wasn’t just slapping their faces; she was trampling on their heads and acting as she pleased!
Emilia Sullivan, heartbroken, tenderly touched Ghania’s reddened cheek, tears nearly falling, both distressed and angry.
"From the mont you were born, we pampered you to no end. Your dad and I couldn’t bear to lay a finger on you, so on what grounds does she have to hit you?"
"I..." Ghania found herself at a loss.
Everyone was watching.
Ghania’s throat felt as if it was glued shut; she couldn’t utter a word.
What could she say?
Tell Emilia Sullivan and the entire roomful of people.
She got slapped in the restroom after attempting to outshine everyone today, running to confront Nathalie in a fit of pique, and saying so truly unpleasant things.
Who would have thought Nathalie wouldn’t give her any face and just slapped her.
Or should she tell the room full of people that she’d tried to retaliate, but Nathalie grabbed her wrist, flinging her aside like trash, and even used the awards as a warning to her?
Unable to say a word, Ghania looked at the people in the room, her throat so constricted it ached; she found Emilia Sullivan’s prattling intolerable for the first ti.
Her gaze shifted, avoiding Emilia Sullivan’s persistent questioning. She turned her face away, not letting Emilia Sullivan touch her cheek, refusing to confront her directly, "Mom, just drop it. If I said I bumped into sothing, then that’s what happened. Why do you have to get an explanation?"
Her reaction in the eyes of others seed to confirm she was hit by Nathalie and was even defending Nathalie, always protecting the ’attacker.’
Adelia Tucker snorted coldly at this mont, murmuring, "What fine students No. 1 Middle School educates. Both causing harm to fellow students, Jane Bailey ended up in the Detention Center and hasn’t been released yet. Striking a classmate outside of school for no reason, what does this incident count as? Intentional injury or brawling?"
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