𝒙𝒙𝒙𝒊𝒗. not a charity case

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chapter thirty-four:
not a charity case

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PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!!
COMMENT AND VOTE! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:)

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Cameron swiped the tip off the table and tucked it into her apron pocket, spinning around to head to her next customer. Her polished work smile faltered slightly when she saw the person at the next table with a menu held high, blocking their face. She adjusted her apron and approached.

"Hi, I'm Cameron. We waiting on anybody, or is it just you?" she asked in her usual cheery but professional tone.

The menu lowered slowly. Cameron froze. Her face paled, then flushed bright red as she realized who it was. Amanda.

"It's just me," Amanda said, her voice even, though her eyes bore into Cameron like a laser.

Cameron's throat felt dry. Her hands tightened around the edges of her notepad as if it were her only anchor. "C-Can I start you off with something?" she stuttered, forcing the words out.

Amanda didn't glance at the menu. She leaned forward slightly, her voice low and cutting. "Actually, there's only one thing I need: for you to stay the hell away from your sister and your brother."

Cameron blinked, her stomach twisting in knots. "You came all the way here to talk about this?" she asked, her voice shaky but tinged with defiance.

Amanda's lips pressed into a thin line. "Well, I couldn't exactly call you, now could I? Since you blocked everyone except Anthony." Her tone was cold, but beneath it, there was a thread of simmering anger. "Should I have kicked in the doors of your dojo instead? Is that more your speed these days?"

Cameron flinched slightly at the jab but refused to back down.

Amanda leaned closer, her elbows resting on the table as her gaze sharpened. "Every day in my house, I see the damage you've done. There are little reminders everywhere. I see Sam covering up her bruises and scars, trying to pretend like it's all fine. Do you know how that feels as a mother? To know your daughter is afraid in her own home because of her sister?"

Cameron's jaw tightened, and she looked away, trying to keep her emotions in check.

"The only reason you're not behind bars right now is because you're my daughter," Amanda continued, her voice colder now. "And because I still want to believe this isn't who you are. That you're better than this."

Cameron's fists clenched at her sides, the sharp edges of her fingernails digging into her palms.

"But let me make myself perfectly clear," Amanda said, sitting back and crossing her arms. "If you lay a hand on your sister again-before or after that tournament-you can forget the fact that you're my daughter. I will personally make sure you're scrubbing toilets in prison for the rest of your life."

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓?| Robby Keene & Eli Moskowitz  [COMPLETED]Where stories live. Discover now