Quinton chimed in with an exasperated tone, âIt was a middle-aged couple going head-to-head with the cops, insisting their daughter hadnât done anything wrong. They demanded she be released on the spot.â
Balfour, who had little patience for drama, steadied Ivyâs shoulders and pushed forward, eager to get away from the scene.
Ivy had not really paid much attention to their previous conversation, but before they had made it more than a few steps, a woman suddenly charged at them.
âYou little troublemaker, youâre here too? Causing chaos at home is one thing, but now youâve gone and gotten your sister locked up at the station. You canât live without stirring up trouble, can you?â
The woman was none other than Tessa.
Finn trailed a few steps behind her, his face a mask of anger when he spotted Ivy. âIvy, you ungrateful child! Itâs one thing to disrespect me and your mother, but what has your sister ever done to you? If she ends up with a record because of you, youâve ruined her life!â
Ivy dodged slightly, her brow furrowed. Seeing them, she felt nothing but a headache coming on.
She had predicted her parentsâ reaction to the news-accustomed as she was to their habitual neglect and blame.
Confronted with this scene, Ivy felt almost indifferent, listening to their accusations with a detached silence, not uttering a single word in response.
But Balfour was unfamiliar with Ivyâs parents. As parents themselves, they were pointing fingers at their own daughter, victim Ivy, their hands nearly poking her forehead.
âSpeak with your words, not your hands,â Balfour, a tall and imposing figure, swatted Tessaâs hand away.
She yelped and stumbled back several steps, clutching her hand.
Finn, supporting his wife, eyed Balfour warily, intimidated by his commanding presence. âWho are you?
This is a family matter, so Iâd appreciate it if you, a stranger, would back off!â
Balfour pulled Ivy close. His gaze on Finn was one of scorn mixed with authority. âWho I am is none of your business, but she matters to me! I suggest you talk to her properly.â
Tessa was sizing up this man of distinguished presence.
He was different from the average Joe-not just in stature but also in demeanor.
Her gaze inadvertently fell on the watch wrapped around Balfourâs wrist, a piece so exquisite that money could not simply buy it.
What was most concerning to her was that his hand rested on Ivyâs waist. What was his relationship with Ivy, and how had he taken an interest in her?
Tessa, puzzled even though Ivy was her daughter, spoke with an air of authority. âExcuse me, this is a family issue, and Iâd appreciate it if you, an outsider, wouldnât interfere.
Ivy, you see me and your father and canât even acknowledge us? Is that any way for a daughter to behave?â Tessa straightened up, the maternal card being played to pressure Ivy.
âSo, you meet a rich man, and now you donât even recognize your own parents?â
Tessa never cared if her words had a negative impact on Ivy; after all, in her eyes, only Clara and her father mattered.
What was her own daughter to her? If she had known Ivy would be a girl, Tessa probably would not have hesitated to terminate the pregnancy, Ivy thought bitterly to herself.