Chapter 917:
Millie lowered her phone slowly. She couldn’t understand. Why did Vivian always twist the narrative? Why stir things further when everything was already against her? She knew Vivian had always been a survivor, a master of manipulating public opinion. She never moved without reason.
Millie remembered the past—how she couldn’t understand why Vivian kept targeting her even after getting what she wanted, only to later discover Vivian had been faking illness all along. “What is it this time?” Millie wondered, unease knotting in her chest. She had the distinct feeling a larger secret lay buried beneath it all.
Later that afternoon, it was time to pick up Ari from her baking class. The sweet smell of cookies lingered in the air as Millie entered. She remembered Ari’s excitement earlier, mentioning the teacher would guide them in making cookies.
Just as she was thinking about it, Ari rushed out cheerfully.
“Millie!” Ari’s voice rang out as she rushed forward, hugging Millie’s leg.
Millie’s smile softened. She crouched, brushing her hand against Ari’s cherubic cheek. “Ari,” she said warmly.
Grinning, Ari tugged her hand. “Come with me!”
Millie followed, curious, into the baking classroom, where trays and ingredients hinted at the day’s activity. Ari stopped at a small table, pulling open a box.
“I made these.” Inside were three cookies, each scrawled with crooked icing letters—Millie, Myron, Ari. The cookies represented the trio. They were colorful and beautifully garnished.
“I messed up so many times before I got it right,” Ari confessed, eyes bright, waiting for praise.
Emotion surged in Millie’s chest. It nearly broke through the composure she had held all day. She hugged Ari close and kissed her cheek.
“Well done, Ari. They look wonderful,” Millie said, her voice thick.
𝗔𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 @ g⍶𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⧽𝖼𝗈𝗆
Ari beamed and hugged her back, patting her waist gently. Then, in a small voice, Ari added, “I had already wrapped them carefully, but Myron said we should make more. That’s why he asked me to bring you here.” She pointed across the room.
Millie turned and saw Myron with an apron tied around his waist, holding a piping tool. He smiled when their eyes met.
“Everything’s ready,” he said lightly. “Millie, come join us.”
She walked to his side. On the table lay several freshly baked cookies. They were fully baked and just waiting to be decorated.
Ari climbed onto a small chair, pointing at them eagerly. “This one’s me,” she said, showing a cookie shaped like a little girl.
Myron smiled and nodded, encouraging Ari to continue. Then she pointed at a larger one. “This is Myron.” Finally, she tapped a slimmer shape. “And this one is you, Millie.”
“Did I get it right, Myron?” Ari asked, clapping her hands.
“Perfect, Ari,” Myron said, smiling at her before looking at Millie. He handed the tool to her. “Now, add the colors.”
Millie took the piping bag, thought for a moment, and then carefully began tracing icing onto the cookies. Ari and Myron watched in quiet contentment as she worked. When she finished, Ari placed the earlier cookies beside them and then slipped her small hands into both Millie’s and Myron’s.
“Millie, Myron,” she said softly, her voice brimming with innocent hope. “Let’s always be together.”
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