chapter2207

"Ceci, I'm out of options," Phoebe confessed the moment Cecilia arrived. "Talk to your cousin—she actually listens to you."

Cecilia's heart jolted when she learned Chelsea had nearly been hit by a car earlier

that day.

She nodded once. "I'll try my best, but if she won't listen, please don't blame me."

"You're an angel for helping," Phoebe murmured, watching Cecilia disappear through the bedroom door.

Chelsea lay on her bed, eyes shut yet restless, stomach cramping with the hunger she stubbornly refused to admit.

The soft click of the handle tightened her brow. "Get out! I'm still not eating!" she shouted toward the sound.

"Chelsea, it's me," Cecilia answered, voice calm but firm.

Chelsea's eyes flew open. The instant she saw Cecilia's familiar face, every wall she had built fell away.

"C-Ceci ..." Embarrassment flushed her cheeks, turning her fierce protest into a fragile whisper.

Cecilia crossed the small room in swift strides. "Tell me everything. What drove you to this?"

Words tumbled out. Chelsea spoke of her love for Jason, her parents' refusal, and the blazing argument that had ended with her virtual lock-in.

Cecilia listened in silence, then said, "Starving yourself won't change their minds." Privately, she admitted she had only ever seen a stunt like this on television dramas.

It amazed her that Chelsea-grown, poised, and clever would choose a hunger strike like a rebellious teenager.

Chelsea sat up, sighing. "They're too stubborn. They get an idea in their heads and won't let go. Without a childish move, they'll never let me leave this house."

"I won't lie," Cecilia replied. "Your mom asked me to convince you to eat."

Chelsea blinked, startled by the revelation.

"They love you more than anything," Cecilia went on. "There has to be a better way to win them over."

Silence stretched, then Chelsea exhaled. "Fine. I'll eat."

She knew her parents had pampered her since the day she could walk.

The thought of hurting them jabbed at her chest, sharper than any hunger pang.

With Cecilia beside her, she lifted the tray and ate-big, determined spoonfuls-like someone swallowing not food but resolution.

Phoebe chuckled as she watched.

Past

"Ceci, only you can handle her. This girl refuses to listen to me and would even go so far as to starve herself Do you remember the last time she pulled this stunt? She was five-maybe six, and she refused to eat because I wouldn't lether play with her toys."

Memory struck Chelsea like lightning, vivid and immediate.

Back then, she had refused to eat, and Phoebe was terrified her little girl would starve herself to death. Hence, she starved herself too.

What Phoebe never knew was that Chelsea had sneaked into the pantry and eaten in secret,.

Her throat tightened with guilt. She lowered her head and kept eating in silence. Phoebe slid a glass of water beside her. "Slow down, sweetheart. Don't choke," she murmured, the rim of the pitcher clinking softly against the table.

In the Rainsworth household, Phoebe never so much as touched a dishpan, yet she waited on Chelsea as though the girl were porcelain, her sole treasured responsibility.

"Mom, have I broken your heart?" Chelsea asked, shame quivering behind the question.

Phoebe blinked, surprised, then her smile returned with a gentle shake of her head.

"Silly girl," she said, the words tender rather than scolding.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Chelsea whispered, the apology rising straight from her heart.

Joy blazed across Phoebe's eyes. "Chelsea, have you finally made up your mind?" she asked, her voice trembling with hope.

Yet Chelsea only lowered her gaze and shook her head, the motion small but resolute.

"No, Mom, I still don't want to leave

him," she admitted, voice barely above a sigh. "I really do like him. If

but it

you force me to end it.

forcemeto end itefW by

will tear me apart right now."

Phoebe's moist eyes dimmed, sorrow folding into the shimmer.

Inside, a tide of empathy stirred. After all, she had once been young, hopelessly smitten. She

remembered loving Kingston so

fiercely that a single night apart feft” like a drought.

Phoebe exhaled softly. "Very well, I won't push you anymore," she said at last. "But

you will have to convince your father yourself."