Just Press Ctrl Z

Chapter 7.1

"Me. It's me. I'm the mother who brought her up. Why?"

As if pricked by a needle, Zen snapped back to her senses, her heart thrumming wildly inside her chest. Before her mind could catch up, her body had already turned towards the source of the new voice. The rays of the overhead sun gleamed brightly over the woman's head, creating a halo-like image, as though she exuded an aura of divine intervention. Zen had to squint her eyes to discern her appearance.

The woman had a fair complexion, with a moderate build—not too slim, not too heavy—and stood at a below-average height, which was evident from her three-inch wedge heels. Her gaze then travelled to the plain, full-sleeved white dress the woman wore, adorned with intricate lace designs around the lower skirt that extended just past her knee. And as her gaze finally settled on the woman's face, the thought that came after was complete and utter confusion.

Never in her entire life had Zen seen this woman before. She did a double take just to make sure, but nope, she didn't know the woman. What was she expecting? Zen thought bitterly. For a moment, she'd hoped for something that was too good to be true.

"Is she your daughter?" The old woman's voice rang out, tinged with disbelief. "No wonder she is. Just look at that hair," she concluded.

Zen glanced at the old woman, then turned her gaze back to the newcomer.

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," the unfamiliar woman said with a sweet smile, and Zen couldn't believe her ears. The woman was defending her. "And it's Elise, for your information," the woman introduced herself.

"You..." Zen stammered, her words failing her, and she wasn't alone. Madilyn and Nadia were just as speechless. It was the first time she was seeing her friends so quiet.

Elise raised her right hand in a commanding gesture, silencing Zen instantly. Zen's gaze was once again fixed on Elise's face. Her hair had been neatly chopped into a bob, ending just between the curves of her neck. The front strands were meticulously styled into a puffy pulled-back look, revealing her forehead. Despite appearing to be in her fifties, there was an unmistakable air of boldness about Elise that deepened Zen's admiration. Although seemingly harmless and tender on the outside, Zen was convinced the woman could strangle a boar if she desired to.

"I'm sure if you had a daughter, you wouldn't want anyone speaking to her the way you just did," Elise said.

Zen instantly knew there was more to the calm-eyed woman. Her soft facial features weren't just inherited; they were bestowed upon her for all good reasons. Her voice, her words, her demeanor carried every known form of kindness but Zen could also sense an underlying storm in her dark brown eyes. Elise reminded her of those modern mothers from some two-hundred-episode-long melodrama series - those rich, sophisticated mothers with all the angelic smiles of the world and kindness of heart, but would automatically splash water on your face at the coffee shop when provoked.

"You have a problem with me, lady?" the old woman's voice crackled with intensity, her eyes narrowing as she locked onto Elise.

Elise responded with a soft chuckle as if she had anticipated this confrontation.

"If you intend to persistently belittle my daughter, to sprinkle insults like breadcrumbs to feed your own ego, all to mask your own isolation and yearning for attention, then I most certainly have an issue with you," Elise's words were calm but carried an unmistakable weight, each syllable a measured dagger.

"You tell her lady," Madilyn and Nadia cheered beside Zen.

Zen didn't know what it was about Elise that made her feel so vulnerable. In the presence of the bold-headed woman, she felt like a child again. For a brief second, she pictured her eight-year-old self hiding behind her mother's skirt with tears in her eyes, fingers clutching the hem of her mother's dress tightly when the neighbour came to scold her after a tennis ball flew in and broke their window while she was playing with the neighbourhood kids. Her mother had been there, defending her. And just like that, Elise was, too.