Sorry, I’m not Cinderella

Sarah panicked and yelled, “Mom!” Then she rushed downstairs.

“Why are you panicking, what happened?”

She was present with a questioning voice. Seeing Sarah rush to hug her, she shivered and lost her soul.

“Clara! It’s…” Sarah stammered in a choked voice.

“How is she?” Hana came out of the room and asked.

Sarah hugged her tighter as if trying to crush her sudden fear. She soothed her with a reassuring voice.

“Sarah! Don’t be afraid, I’m here.” She patted and hugged her suddenly cold body, not only that her face had turned pale.

“Tell me what makes you so afraid of harm?” She asked thoughtfully, clearly certain in her heart that something had happened, but still uncertain.

“His body was cold. It didn’t react at all.”

Sarah tried to speak, still not completely shocked by the incident.

Both daughters still do not know what happened.

Only she knew, Xenia frowned incredulously. Was she really dead? No! I need to be sure about it, it’s serious.

“Tell your mother how?”

She calmly wants to know the beginning and end of the matter, to see if her daughter is scared. She needs to have a specific plan if anyone asks why Clara died.

“Just now…” Sarah began in a trembling voice: “I went to the laundry room to get my floral dress, and it was wet and torn a long way. Seeing this, I called Clara to ask if “But I kept calling and she didn’t answer.” With a single step, she continued: “I immediately ran up to his room, opened the door to find him lying still on the bed, not moving, thinking he was angry with me, I just walked over to face a battle, come on, come on. I suddenly felt cold when I touched him.”

She paused to finish her narration. Still have not come out of that obsession. She clung to my neck.

“Is it still breathing?” She stroked her back, impatiently asking.

“I do not know.” She shook her head: “I was so scared that I rushed downstairs, I don’t know if it’s alive or dead.”

“Okay, go to your room. I’ll take you to buy a new dress later.”Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

She pushed her away, understanding Sarah to enter the room.

“Mom! What’s wrong with it?” Hana, who had been standing for a while, was panicking, so she asked.

“Give it here, let me check it out.”

She turned to look at her two children, then slowly picked up the laborious steps up the stairs.

“Mom!” Hana called out, then ran after her.

The door to Clara’s room flew open, and she stood at the door hesitantly daring to enter.

If she really died, what should she do?

Hana stood behind, seeing her mother’s consideration, she looked inside to see how. Then speak up.

“Let me.” She slipped past her, then boldly stepped inside. She wanted to put out her hand to stop her, but before she could, Hana walked over to her.

Clara’s face was white, the wound on her forehead turned purple, and the blood had stopped running. A little scared, she lingered to see if she was dead.

Her soft, weak breathing showed she was still alive. She exclaimed, regaining her composure.

“It’s still alive, Mom!”

“Are you sure?” I still do not believe it.

“Sure, he’s still breathing, his breathing isn’t even. It looks like he has a fever.” Hana said, touching her forehead lightly.

Feeling secure, like a mountain had been lifted off her chest, she allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief.

“What do we do with it now, do we need to take it to the hospital?”

Suddenly, Hana reminded her. Obviously, she is very weak. I am afraid that she will not make it through today. If she is taken to the hospital right away, she may still be able to make it in time. She looked at her mother expectantly, she said nothing, thinking. At this point, she still can’t let go of her crime.

“Let’s go downstairs, it’s almost time for school. I’ll take care of that.” She urged Hana to go now. Without question or doubt, she obeyed and went downstairs. Suddenly she called back and wanted to say something: “Ah, I will send him a leave of absence.”

Hana frowned, showing annoyance: “Why do you do that? Never mind, it has nothing to do with us.”

“Just do as mom says, someone asked why and said he’s been away for a few days.”

“Why say that, he’s clearly sick, just say he has a fever.” Hana suddenly became more sensitive, it was clear that her mother was hiding something.

“You keep telling them that he’s sick, don’t let others know. You don’t need to know much, I have a point.” She spoke louder, pleading, and turned to command.

Although she couldn’t understand what her mother wanted to do, she wasn’t crazy enough to be so inquisitive, especially when it came to Clara. Waiting for Hana to disappear, she went back into the room, quickly covered her with a soft blanket, then ran downstairs to the medicine cabinet to find some fever reducers. She frantically took a glass of water and went up to her room again. Slowly she sat up, forced her mouth open, and immediately put the medicine in her hand into her mouth, but Clara’s mouth was tightly closed, her broken neck was dry and not slippery at all.

She had to lay her down, find something to break the pills, grind them into powder and mix it with water, and pour it right into Clara’s mouth. This time it seems to be more effective.

When she was done, she adjusted the blanket up high over Clara’s chest, closed the window, and went out, mumbling that everything would be okay.

She left, and the two angels looked at each other in disbelief.

Did her conscience suddenly arise or did she have a plan?

No matter what she does, it won’t change people’s minds. She’s a good person.’