The silence at the table stretched on for what felt like an eternity after Anushka's question. Her gaze flitted nervously between Monica and the rest of us, as though she wasn't sure what she had stumbled upon.
Finally, Monica broke the quiet, setting her mug down and folding her hands neatly on the table. "Yes," she said, her voice calm but deliberate. "I'm Alice's sister."
Anushka nodded slowly, almost like she was piecing a puzzle together in her head. But Monica's next words weren't for her—they were for us.
"What surprises me," Monica continued, her gaze sweeping across the table, "is that none of you look surprised."
The room was still, except for Jacqueline, who shifted slightly in her chair. "Because we're not," she said softly, looking down at her plate before lifting her eyes to meet Monica's.
Monica blinked, clearly taken aback. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" Jacqueline hesitated, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I've known for a long time. Ever since I was little."
Monica's expression tightened. "How?"
Jacqueline's voice grew steadier as she spoke, her words carrying a mix of nostalgia and conviction. "It wasn't hard to figure out. You're mom's baby sister, and I know the way Mom looked at you. The same looks I have for baby sis—like you're the most precious thing in the world. And…" She paused, glancing at me before returning her attention to Monica. "You look like her. You move like her. You are her, just younger."
Monica sat back in her chair, visibly struggling to process Jacqueline's confession.
Jerry chimed in next, shrugging casually but with a hint of a grin. "Honestly, it was obvious. You and Mom could pass for twins if you were the same age. Your mannerisms, the way you talk, even the way you tilt your head when you're thinking—it's all the same."
Emily nodded in agreement. "And the way you and Mom clicked. You're not just her sister—you've got a bond. It's different from the rest of us."
Monica's lips parted slightly as if she wanted to speak, but no words came out.
I decided to jump in, because, well, if everyone else was spilling the truth, why not? "I mean, yeah," I said, shrugging. "I'm twelve, but even I figured it out. The way Mom looked at you—it's like she's holding onto a piece of herself. And the stories she told about when she was younger? You were always in them."
Anushka, who had been silent during all this, glanced at me with a look of mild surprise. "That's… a lot to pick up on for a kid."
"Baby sis isn't just a kid," Jacqueline said with a small smile, ruffling my hair. "She's observant. Always has been."
Monica, however, seemed to be staring at each of us in turn, her shock slowly giving way to something else—something heavier. "You all knew," she said, her voice just above a whisper. "All this time. And no one said anything."
Mark, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke up. His voice was steady but gentle. "It wasn't our place, little mom. That was between you and Mom. We didn't want to intrude on something so personal."
"But…" Monica faltered, searching for the right words. "You should have said something. I—" She paused, swallowing hard. "I always thought I had to prove myself to fit in. Like I didn't really belong."
"You've always belonged," Jacqueline said, her voice firm. "Mom loved you. We love you. You're not just part of this family—you've always been a part of her."
Monica's eyes glistened, but she quickly blinked away the moisture. She pressed her lips into a thin line and took a deep breath, steadying herself.
Anushka, meanwhile, looked like she regretted asking the question. "I didn't mean to stir up—"
"It's alright," Monica said, cutting her off gently. Her voice was softer now, less guarded. "Maybe it's good that it's all out in the open. I just… I didn't expect it to come from you."
Anushka offered her an apologetic smile. "You just reminded me of her. I couldn't help but ask."
Jacqueline reached across the table, placing her hand on Monica's. "You've always been family, Monica. Whether you knew it or not."
For a moment, the table was silent again, but this time, the air felt lighter—like a weight had been lifted.
Breakfast ended with a soft hum of chairs sliding and plates clinking as everyone began to disperse. I watched Jacqueline push her chair back, giving Monica a small smile. "We'll help you clear up later," she said. "For now, Dorcas and I are kidnapping you for some girl talk."
Monica chuckled, though it was a little strained—like her thoughts were still swirling after everything that had come up during breakfast. She didn't resist as Jacqueline looped an arm around her and started leading her toward the hallway. I trailed after them, glancing back briefly to see what Mark and Anushka were doing.
Emily and Jerry were already making their way upstairs, Jerry joking loudly about how Emily had snagged the last piece of toast. "Selfish as ever," he teased.
"Oh, shut up, Jerry," Emily fired back, though her tone was light.
Meanwhile, Mark and Anushka stayed seated at the table. Anushka still had her cup of tea in hand, and Mark leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed but focused.
"Thank you for joining us," Jacqueline said to Anushka before disappearing around the corner with Monica.
"Yeah," Emily added, glancing back as she climbed the stairs. "You made breakfast much more interesting."
"Agreed," Jerry called over his shoulder. "Come by more often, Ruhi!"
I grinned to myself at how easily Anushka had fit into the chaos of our family breakfast. But as I followed Jacqueline and Monica, I couldn't help sneaking one last look at the dining room.
Mark and Anushka were deep in conversation, their voices low. Whatever they were talking about, it wasn't small talk.
Mark leaned forward slightly, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his coffee cup. Anushka tilted her head, her brow furrowed in thought.
"So," she said after a moment, "that was… an intense breakfast."
Mark huffed a soft laugh. "That's putting it lightly."
Anushka set her cup down, her eyes searching his. "I mean it, though. What was that all about? I mean Monica being your aunt and you guys pretended you didn't know."
Mark sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Yeah, she is. We've always known her as Monica, our housekeeper. But apparently, she's been my aunt this whole time." He shook his head, a faint frown tugging at his lips. "Why that kept from us for so long, I have no idea."
Anushka blinked, clearly trying to process the revelation. "That's… a lot to take in."
"You're telling me," Mark muttered.
For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of the morning's revelations settling between them. But then Anushka leaned forward, her expression shifting to something more inquisitive. "Okay, so… now that the family drama is out of the way—what about the hack?"
Mark's lips curved into a small smirk, and he leaned back in his chair. "Now that's something worth talking about."
Anushka grinned. "You didn't tell them, did you? About Dr. Otim's phone?"
"Of course not." Mark's tone was firm but amused. "They don't need to know. Not yet, anyway."
"So?" Anushka prompted, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "I don't know why you need it but the fact is you have to see it?"
Mark gestured toward the stairs. "Show me upstairs. Let's go, it's easier to analyze everything there."
Anushka stood, grabbing her cup and taking a final sip before following Mark toward the stairs. "This had better be good," she said playfully.
Mark shot her a glance over his shoulder, a sly grin on his face. "Trust me, it will be."
As Mark and Anushka disappeared upstairs, I couldn't help but wonder what they were up to. But Jacqueline nudged my shoulder, pulling me back to the present. "C'mon, baby sis," she said with a laugh. "Let's see if Monica has any embarrassing childhood stories about mom."