“Annabelle, don’t be infatuated and blame my sister here!” Palmer Johnson burst into anger suddenly.
“Rosewood, I can actually understand how you feel, really.” Pamela’s voice was extremely dispirited, sounding as if she bore grievances unspoken, so considerate and empathetic.
Indeed, Anya’s anger surged once more.
At the center of the storm, Annabelle let them talk, her gaze falling on the doorway behind them.
There, a figure had appeared, her stepfather, Preston Johnson.
He had been listening for who knew how long, and only now did he finally step forward, joining the group.
It seemed everyone who needed to be here had arrived.
With the performance of the innocent and the irritable over, it was her turn to act.
“Annabelle! You’re the one at fault, trying to blame Pamela? How could I have a daughter as shameless as you!” Anya spotted her husband’s arrival, and as the stepmother, she quickly reproached her own daughter.
Annabelle stiffened, her eyes hurt as she looked at her mother.
This time, it was not just the residual emotions of the original Rosewood, but she herself felt a sourness in her nose.
She was an orphan, raised by her master, never knowing the taste of having parents.
Her master was the world’s number one hacker, but high intelligence did not equate to high emotional intelligence.
The master could explain the most intricate programming codes, teach her the most ingenious identity concealments, and even discuss psychological offense and defense eloquently. But in life, he was a god-like figure who could manage to blow up the kitchen just by boiling instant noodles. In his own words, his neurons were probably structured with the thickest steel wires.
The care between them was often demonstrated through combat. Ambushes and counter-ambushes, attacks and counter-attacks, these were how they expressed their affection.
But her master never insulted her.
Annabelle must feel very wronged…
And resentful…
Serves you right!
Who failed to distinguish good from ill, who acted recklessly and caused trouble time and again…
It’s all you, so don’t blame others for misunderstandings.
These are the expected outcomes.
What you possess, you must learn to cherish.
Instead of complaining about the unfairness of the world!
If you care, don’t just rebel and oppose; if you want trust and love, earn them.
She had no father, no mother, no relatives, no friends.
Her master said that in their line of work, getting close to anyone would only harm them.
In the end, with her master gone, she was left alone in this world.
No one would say she didn’t behave well, no one would point out her mistakes, and no one would be sad or angry because of her…
She was a code name existing only on the internet; when the computer was turned off, no one knew who she was, whether male or female.
Thus, she craved that faint warmth, leading her to fall into a trap.
Annabelle, from now on, I will live for you!
“Mom… Don’t you believe me?”
Annabelle reached out and grabbed her mother’s hand, her voice trembling as she asked. The girl’s eyes, usually like a galaxy in motion, were now dimming bit by bit, with moist air making her red eyes look pitiful.
“Ya, let it go, it’s getting late, and you need to rest early because you’re pregnant; the children should also go to sleep.” Preston Johnson, who had been silent all along, finally spoke, seemingly coming to Annabelle’s defense, but he never looked at her.
This indifferent and detached attitude was another way of already condemning her in his heart.