My Stepbrother: secret possession

Happy Holidays: Merry Christmas

"You ought not to have added so much butter."

My eyebrows rising before I scoffed. "I can't believe you're blaming me for whatever this is supposed to be."

"It's called cake, Ava. Christmas cake. Show some respect," she retorted.

"Well, it appears to me that it's beyond saving and can't wait any longer. The least we could do is skip the decoration stage and give it a 'Rest In Peace' funeral by eating it all." I nonchalantly rolled my eyes at her over-exaggeration.

"You're the one who added excessive amounts of butter. I measured all the ingredients precisely for a perfect cake, and now look at what it has become—a sorry mess," she replied. I tried my best to hold back my laughter, but the frustration on her face left me no chance. Not to mention the monstrous cake that still stood tall on the kitchen island, even after losing substantial parts all over the oven and floor. "I'm thrilled that my hours of effort have amused you," Sawyer huffed sarcastically, annoyed by my behaviour.

"I'm sorry, I thought it was lacking... and just so you know, it's not only butter. I also added icing sugar and some yeast. I really don't agree with the quantities you've been using. The last batch of biscuits you made were devoid of sugar," I admitted. But in my defence, I had no idea that a cake made with a small amount of ingredients could turn into such a strange creature after adding sugar, yeast, and, well, a cup of butter. Okay?

"Yeast? You added yeast to the cake? You're unbelievable, Ava," she shook her head and dropped her hands on her hips in frustration.

"But yeast was listed in the ingredients," I frowned.

"That's for doughnuts and other snacks," she paused, took a deep breath with her eyes closed, and continued, "This is my kitchen, and you shouldn't be the one making decisions. The biscuits were supposed to be sugar-free, in case you didn't know. I can't keep watching Auntie Susan hiding behind sugar over a man." Accurate! Sawyer's right; that's how Mum has been lately.

Well done, Ava! Congratulations on achieving your goal. Now you get to witness your innocent mother's slow descent.

I swallowed and held onto the counter for physical and moral support after my subconscious hit me with honesty. A shaky breath escaped from my windpipe as I pushed the thought to the back of my mind, trying to find some excuse. "Oh! Well, I am also a chef... I helped with everything here," I waved my hand around the messy kitchen.

"Wait! You didn't," Sawyer's eyes inspected the pancake batter and me suspiciously.

"So what? It's Hell's Kitchen anyway," I shrugged noncommittally until she took a turn around the island. That's when my feet accelerated, and we began circling the apartment, scattering everything we had managed to put in place for weeks.

"What's happening there?" Mum weakly questioned from her bedroom.

It had been over two weeks since we moved out of Christian Boyce's mansion, and Mum had been in this apartment, dreary in only her pyjamas with red, swollen eyes from crying herself to sleep every night. Sadly, even doctors have no cure for heartbreak.

The other worst part is that her dedication to work has vanished. I tried several times to remind her how much the world needs her, but nothing seems to motivate the broken woman who would do anything for me. But I repaid her unfairly, and now the damage has been done.

"Nothing." Frozen in our tracks, we responded in unison, knowing for sure that Mum wouldn't get out of bed to find the mess we had made in her apartment.

It might not be London, our familiar home, and Mum is struggling with her broken heart, but after two days in a hotel room, a friend of hers informed us about this apartment in Summerlin. Surprisingly, it's conveniently close to Mom's workplace and my school.