Then Tatiana stood, her chair scraping faintly against the floor.
"I'll go now," she said, voice barely above a whisper.
Kevin smiled distractedly. "Alright, sweetheart."
Esme looked up just then, their gazes meeting.
Tatiana froze for a heartbeat.
Esme's expression was unreadable, not warm, not hostile, just… calm. Detached.
As if she were looking through her, not at her.
Tatiana turned quickly and walked away, the hem of her dress swaying behind her.
Jurion finished his coffee next. "I'll be in the library," he said, rising from his seat. "Midterms are next week."
Kevin nodded approvingly. "Good boy."
Ace stood a moment later, stretching. "I'll go too. Got some work to do."
They left one after another, their footsteps echoing down the corridor. Dylan soon followed, muttering something about needing fresh air.
Within minutes, the large dining room was quiet again, save for the faint ticking of the antique clock on the wall.
Esme sat alone with Kevin and Zoe.
Her plate was clean now, and she wiped her mouth with the napkin carefully before placing it down.
Zoe smiled gently. "Did you like the food, sweetheart?"
"Yes," Esme said softly. "It was nice."
"I'll ask the chef to make something special for lunch, then," Kevin said, clearly pleased. "Anything you want?"
Esme thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Anything is fine."
"Such a polite girl," Zoe said warmly. "You really are different from the boys."
Esme's lips curved slightly, but she didn't reply.
When breakfast ended, she excused herself politely and stepped into the corridor. The hall stretched long and bright before her, lined with family portraits and vases of fresh lilies.
She walked slowly, trailing her fingers along the polished wooden railing.
Voices drifted faintly from the library, Jurion's calm tone, Ace's sharper one. She didn't need to listen closely to know they were talking about her.
'They're watching me already,' she thought. 'Good progress.'
She stopped before a large mirror at the hallway's end.
She didn't have anything to do with Tatiana, because her main target was the boys, not the girl.
In the reflection, she saw herself, small, composed, innocent. Exactly what they expected her to be.
She reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
In the glass, her eyes flashed briefly, sharp, intelligent, and calculating.
Then, just as quickly, the expression vanished, replaced by that same gentle calm.
Out in the garden, Tatiana sat beneath the gazebo, nibbling on a biscuit while pretending to read a book. The spring air smelled of roses and rain, but her thoughts were elsewhere.
'She took the tart,' she thought miserably. 'Mother gave it to her.'
She tried to shake it off. It was silly, childish even. But still, the image replayed in her mind: her mother's hand reaching across the table, the small smile, the strawberry glistening in the light.
Her chest tightened.
Was she jealous? Of course not. She was older, more mature. Esme was just… new. A novelty. Her parents would get over it soon.
Right?
She turned another page of her book, though she hadn't read a word.
Upstairs, in his study, Jurion leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
The new girl, Esme, was a puzzle. Too quiet to be shy, too composed to be innocent.
He couldn't decide if he liked her or not.
But one thing was certain: she wasn't ordinary.
"Let's see how long you can keep that calm face," he murmured.
Down the hall, Ace was on a video call with friends, pretending to laugh at a joke while his mind replayed the breakfast scene.
His parents' attention, all on her.
He clenched his jaw. "We'll see," he muttered under his breath. "Let's see what kind of 'sister' you really are."
And in her room, Esme sat by the window, gazing at the garden below where Tatiana sat alone.
She held the untouched strawberry tart in her hands, a small, knowing smile curling on her lips.
"Everyone shows their weakness through what they crave," she whispered. "And I've already seen yours. It's boring here..."
She lifted the fork delicately, slicing the tart in half before taking a small bite.
The sweetness lingered on her tongue, rich and fleeting.
"Ah, only these delicious foods are keeping me alive, I guess."
Her eyes gleamed faintly as she watched the sunlight scatter across the lawn.
The Evans manor, with all its wealth and warmth, was slowly beginning to reveal its cracks.
And Esme… was just getting started.
***
The Evans estate looked like a painting under the early morning sun, tranquil, gilded, and flawless.
The dew still clung to the flowerbeds outside the tall glass windows, their faint shimmer reflected across the polished marble floor of the corridor.
The faint aroma of toasted bread and freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, slowly fading as the family dispersed after breakfast.
Esme, however, was not in a rush to leave.
Her small frame crept through the hallway as she licked the last trace of strawberry jam from her thumb, an unbothered gesture, but one that carried a strange sort of self-possession, like someone who understood exactly what she was doing.
Her steps were soft, measured, and deliberate, each echo lost in the hush of the manor's long corridors.
Ahead of her, Jurion's figure was already halfway down the hall, tall for his age, posture slouched, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other flipping a notebook lazily.
His disheveled dark hair caught a faint gleam from the skylight, giving him an oddly refined air even in his casual indifference.
He was heading to the library.
Esme knew this from observing him over breakfast. He hadn't spoken much, only the briefest, most polite responses when his parents or Dylan asked him something.
His eyes, however, were sharp and detached, but not dull. There was a quiet storm behind his unbothered gaze.
'Looks like it's just perfect,' she thought.
A lazy genius was easier to handle than an emotional fool.