Isabella stormed into the living room, her frustration evident in every step she took. As soon as she reached the center of the room, she let out a scream of frustration. Cecilia, her mother, rushed in from the adjacent room, concern etched on her face.
"What's wrong, Isabella? Why are you screaming like that?" Cecilia asked, her voice filled with worry.
Isabella's expression was clouded with irritation. "Mom, do you think Elara is better than me?" she questioned, her tone laced with bitterness.
Cecilia's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden accusation. "Never, sweetheart. Elara is nothing compared to you. She's just lucky that William and his mother raised her, even though they all knew she wasn't a Morgan," she reassured, trying to calm Isabella's agitation.
"Why do people love her so much?" Isabella continued, her frustration mounting with each word.
