Chapter 108:She looks somewhat familiar

Chapter 108: 108:She looks somewhat familiar

Trison’s Mansion

The interior of Trison’s mansion was engulfed in a suffocating, heavy silence as Clark followed him inside. Trison flicked on a dim, ambient light, casting long, sharp shadows across the room. He gestured toward the long leather couch before moving to the bar. With measured, unhurried movements, Trison poured a glass of water and slid it across the glass table toward Clark.

Clark sank into the sofa, took the glass, and downed the water in one tense gulp before setting it back down with a sharp clink.

"Have you made your move?" Clark asked, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Trison.

Trison settled into the armchair opposite him, calmly crossing one leg over the other. "Yes. I sent Naomi to stir up a little chaos. Don’t worry, that Nova girl won’t be harmed," he replied smoothly.

"Naomi," Clark murmured, his tone laced with skepticism. "You trust that woman a bit too much. Are you absolutely certain she won’t betray you?"

Trison chuckled—a low, hollow sound devoid of real amusement. "She wouldn’t dare. She has yet to make her move, as she is still recovering from her injuries, but if she ever attempted to betray me... it would be nothing short of a suicide mission."

"It seems you have everything quite planned out," Clark muttered, his jaw tight. "I will stay low for now. Just make sure Nova isn’t injured."

Trison tilted his head, a dark gleam of suspicion flashing in his eyes. "You aren’t really interested in this Nova girl, are you?"

Clark hissed in sudden irritation, standing up abruptly. "I’m going to bed," he snapped, turning on his heel and marching up the grand staircase.

Trison sat in the quiet gloom, watching Clark’s retreating back. A chilling, unreadable smirk slowly stretched across his face, masking the dangerous calculations turning in his mind. After a few moments of absolute stillness, he finally stood and headed to his own quarters.

The Next Day — The Bilili Doll Shop

The harsh, blaring horn of a luxury car outside the doll shop shattered the morning quiet, jolting Nova awake. Her brows knitted together in brief annoyance as she slowly opened her eyes. The vibrant, icy blue of her irises was gone, replaced by a void-like, pitch-black hue that matched Jenifer’s original appearance.

"They are here, Nova," Anah’s flat voice echoed directly into her mind.

"Mhm," Nova hummed softly. She stood, smoothing down her faded dress and adjust her mask properly then pushed open the glass door just as a well-dressed middle-aged couple stepped out of the idling vehicle.

Instantly, the cold glint in Nova’s eyes vanished. Her expression morphed seamlessly into one of timid warmth.

"Welcome to the Bilili Doll Shop. How may I help you?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly with manufactured meekness, treating them exactly as she would a regular customer.

The moment Mrs. Darson laid eyes on the masked girl, she broke. Tears welled up instantly, spilling over her cheeks as she rushed forward. "Daughter! Oh, my daughter, I finally found you!" she sobbed, throwing her arms around Nova in a suffocatingly tight embrace.

A spike of pure, violent irritation flared in Nova’s chest at the unwelcome physical contact. Her instincts screamed to shove the weeping stranger away and snap her neck, but with ironclad restraint, she forced herself to stand still.

"You... you must have made a mistake, ma’am," Nova stammered, gently but firmly pulling away. She widened her dark eyes, playing the role of a shocked, frightened orphan perfectly. "I... I don’t have parents. I’m an orphan."

Mrs. Darson wasn’t deterred, the rejection only made her cry harder. "No, sweet girl, you are not an orphan! We are your parents. Look, here are the test results—you are truly our biological daughter!" Immediately, she unzipped her designer handbag, pulled out a folded medical document, and pressed it into Nova’s hands.

Nova looked down at the paper, then back up at them with a look of overwhelming helplessness. "I... I am illiterate," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I can’t understand what is written here."

The admission struck Mrs. Darson like a physical blow. A look of profound, agonizing heartache washed over her face, and she turned to her husband, weeping bitterly. "Husband... our daughter... she has suffered so much!"

Mr. Darson stepped forward, wrapping a comforting arm around his wife’s trembling shoulders while offering Nova a strained, gentle smile. "It is perfectly fine if you don’t know how to read yet. We will teach you slowly. What you are holding is the undeniable proof that you are our flesh and blood."

Nova stared deeply into Mr. Darson’s eyes, her own widening in orchestrated disbelief. "Really? I’m... I’m really not an orphan? I have a family?"

Mrs. Darson pulled away from her husband and gently grasped Nova’s hands. "That’s right, my dear. We are your family. Your brothers and sister are all waiting for you at home."

"This..."

"Jenifer."

The sound of Granny Afreid’s frail voice interrupted the reunion. The elderly woman slowly approached them from the side of the shop.

Nova turned her head, playing the part of a hesitant, obedient girl.

"Since your real family has finally found you, you should go with them," Granny Afreid urged, offering a warm, bittersweet smile. "Do not hesitate, child. The family that adopted you treated you terribly. Leave them behind and don’t look back."

Nova lowered her head slightly, nodding with feigned shyness. "Thank you, Granny Afreid."

"Come along, my daughter," Mrs. Darson cooed, gently guiding Nova toward the backseat of the luxury car. Once Nova was safely inside, Mrs. Darson turned back to the old woman.

"Thank you for looking after my daughter," Mrs. Darson said sincerely. She reached into her bag, pulling out a thick envelope bulging with cash, and extended it toward the shop owner.

Granny Afreid smiled, gently pushing the envelope away. "Just treat her well. The poor girl has suffered more than enough." She waved them off softly. "You should get going."

Mrs. Darson stood awkwardly holding the money, glancing at her husband for guidance.

"Since she refuses it, we shouldn’t force the issue. Let’s go home," Mr. Darson advised gently.

Mrs. Darson nodded, slipped the envelope back into her bag, and let her husband guide her into the passenger seat. The engine purred to life, and the car pulled away from the curb, leaving the gloomy doll shop behind.

The Darson Family Mansion

The massive iron gates of the Darson estate parted, and the car glided up the sprawling driveway, rolling to a smooth stop near the grand entrance. Mr. and Mrs. Darson stepped out immediately, but Nova remained huddled in the backseat, radiating the perfect illusion of a terrified, feral child too afraid to step out of her cage.

Before the driver could even open the door, a vibrant, energetic voice echoed across the courtyard.

"Welcome back, Mum!"

Susan rushed out of the front doors, throwing herself joyfully into Mrs. Darson’s embrace.

Mrs. Darson chuckled warmly, patting her back. "Where are your brothers? Why aren’t they out here to greet us?" she asked, looking toward the empty doorway.

Susan rubbed her nose awkwardly, her smile faltering. "They... they said they don’t want some country bumpkin as their sister, so they refuse to come out and welcome her."

Mrs. Darson’s face immediately hardened with fury. "What kind of nonsense is that?!"

"Calm down, dear," Mr. Darson interjected smoothly, attempting to ease the sudden tension. "They might not actually mean it. Don’t be angry today of all days."

Mrs. Darson took a sharp, deep breath, her eyes flashing. "They had better not mean it."

Susan peeked around her parents eagerly. "Mum, where is my new sister?"

Mrs. Darson gasped, realizing she had left her traumatized daughter alone. "Oh, my poor child!" She immediately rushed to the rear door, opening it gently and coaxing Nova out of the plush leather interior.

As Nova finally stepped out into the sunlight, Susan’s brows knitted together at the sight of the girl’s timid posture and the clinical mask covering half her face.

Mrs. Darson placed a gentle, encouraging hand on Nova’s shoulder, guiding her forward. "Susan, this is your sister, Jenifer."

Nova slowly raised her head.

The moment Susan locked eyes with her Nova’s eyes, the breath hitched in her throat. The vibrant, welcoming energy completely evaporated from her body, replaced by a sudden, icy wave of primal dread. Nova’s pitch-black eyes were entirely devoid of warmth, staring back with an eerie, bottomless depth that made Susan’s heart hammer wildly against her ribs.

"She looks... somewhat familiar," Susan whispered involuntarily, unable to break eye contact. The overwhelming sense of danger radiating from the quiet Nova was suffocating, wrapping around Susan’s throat like a physical grip.