Catherine had no idea that her destiny was about to take a dramatic turn. Her glee and pride over her little schemes didn't last long.
"I didn't hear you wrong, did I, dear? You said Catherine published a short story in Amazing Stories, got nominated for a Nebula Award, and has two screenplays about to be bought by Disney… April Fool's Day is long past, right?" Vincent looked at his wife in astonishment at the dinner table.
"I wish I could think so, but clearly, April Fool's Day is long gone." Susan shrugged.
Vincent took a deep breath, glanced at the little one sitting properly at the table, cutting her food without looking up, then turned to Jennifer, who was serving soup. Jennifer smiled and shrugged, "I don't know anything, sir."
"Well, we have a genius in the family now, maybe we should celebrate." Vincent spread his hands, then thoughtfully said, "No wonder I had a mysterious check exchange procedure last year…"
Catherine nearly spat out her soup, quickly ducked her head, shoveled a few more bites into her mouth, wiped her lips, said, "I'm done," and fled the scene.
Susan didn't stop the flustered little girl from running upstairs. Instead, she sighed and looked at her husband. "Our daughter is growing up."
"Growing up? Dear, she's only eleven." Vincent shrugged.
"Vincent, you know what I mean. Catherine is maturing too quickly, and it's not good for her development." Susan continued to look at her husband.
"Don't worry, Susan. No matter what, she's our daughter," Vincent lightly tapped his plate. "She's indeed maturing fast, but I believe she knows what to do and what not to do. You should trust her."
"Alright, I hope I'm just overthinking it." Susan smiled helplessly and shrugged, then thought for a moment, her eyes twinkling as she looked at Vincent with uncertainty, "Dear, maybe… we could give the little one a sibling… a brother or a sister?"
"Pfft!" Vincent almost spat out the sip of wine he had just taken, coughed several times, then stared wide-eyed: "Susan… I think I…"
"No, I really mean it. I want another child." Susan clasped her hands at her neck and spoke seriously, "Catherine is too lonely at home. As she said, friends can't always be around at home. Remember the Watsons we met last Christmas? Catherine couldn't get enough of their newborn. Having another child would make the house much livelier."
"But…" Vincent furrowed his brows, knowing babies aren't easy to take care of. These little guys have privileges, doing whatever they want whenever they want, and crying loudly if things don't go their way. Even with Jennifer, the housekeeper and nanny, Catherine's birth had still been tough on him—though that wasn't Catherine's fault. Even though her soul was that of an adult, her body wouldn't just obey her commands so easily.
Vincent stopped mid-sentence, looking below the table, sensing his wife's unyielding will. Susan looked at him calmly, with a smile that seemed to say she had done nothing.
"Alright, maybe… we should do something about it." Vincent raised his eyebrows and said.
...
Catherine dashed into her room, leapt onto her bed, and quickly wrapped herself in a blanket, staring at the door, ready to flop down and feign weakness at the slightest sound, accompanied by a few soft groans. She always did this when she was scared, and her mother would soften her tone even if she knew Catherine was faking it.
But unfortunately, as the time ticked towards 8 o'clock, there was no sign of the door opening. Catherine felt both relieved and puzzled. Why had her mom let her off so easily? Unable to figure it out, she got out of bed and pressed her ear against the door, but heard nothing.
"I hate waiting for the judgment!" Catherine grumbled as she sat at her vanity, glared at her reflection, then pressed her face against the mirror and said fiercely, "Alright, Miss Mason, what do you have to say for yourself?!"
However, this was really silly, so after glaring at herself for a while, Catherine turned away, pacing around the room, visibly agitated. She soon realized her odd behavior and sighed, sitting down at her piano, lifting the cover, and taking a deep breath before her hands began to play.
The notes of "Moonlight Sonata" flowed gently from her fingertips, the light music filling the room, making one feel as if they were strolling through a quiet forest under the soft moonlight, sometimes gentle, sometimes clear, like a stream washing over the heart. Though not quite at a master's level, it had its own charm.
When she finished, Catherine sighed softly, her agitated mind calmed. It was ironic; what she had reluctantly taken up—music and instruments—had become her means of adjusting her mindset. Accepting reincarnation was one thing, but being reborn as a female was a massive blow. This wasn't some fantasy novel; it wasn't easy to change her mindset and accept a completely different body and life. She had been somewhat dazed and out of it until she was two, which worried her parents, who even sought out many doctors. However, no one could find the cause until her previous life's introverted, single nature emerged, and she began to act normally. But even then, she remained unfocused, absent-minded, and inattentive.
She knew she couldn't continue like this, so on her fourth birthday, she asked her parents for a tutor to learn painting. In her past life, she had earned money by drawing CGs online and had a solid foundation. She just needed someone to guide her practice to regain a decent level, using painting to focus her mind, a trick she had often employed before.
However, painting was too familiar to her. Despite her teacher's amazement at her progress and constant praise of her talent, she still couldn't fully escape her mental fog. Finally, she threw a tantrum and demanded her father find her a music tutor. It was her previous life's regret; she had wanted to learn an instrument but never got around to it. Now, with this chance, she was determined to try.
This attempt revealed the benefits of reincarnation. Besides her natural charm, she learned things incredibly quickly. With her previous life's experience, she grasped music almost instantly. In a few years, she mastered various instruments, particularly excelling in the elegant piano, the melodious violin, and the crisp Chinese bamboo flute. Music became part of her life, not only helping her fully accept herself but also providing a way to calm her mind. Whenever she was upset, she would play "Moonlight Sonata"; when she faced difficulties or couldn't make a decision, she would play the violin; and when she was sad, she would play the flute.
"Alright, I'll go apologize to Dad and Mom, and let them handle it." Catherine closed the piano lid, her face still showing a troubled expression despite her decision.
At that moment, there was a knock on the door, startling the little girl who had just steeled herself: "Little one, are you in there?"
"Come in, Aunt Jennifer." Catherine relaxed, though she had prepared herself for her mother's wrath, she wasn't ready just yet.
The housekeeper entered with a small tray, holding some snacks and a glass of juice. "Hungry? You didn't eat much at dinner."
As Jennifer said this, Catherine felt her stomach grumble slightly. Her eyes lit up, and she ran over to grab the tray, saying thanks before devouring half a thin pancake in one bite. Jennifer smiled warmly, watching the little one wolf down the snacks.
"Alright, I know what you're going to say, Jennifer. I understand. I'll apologize to Mom later." Catherine licked her fingers, a bit embarrassed as she looked at Jennifer.
"No, no, dear, I didn't mean that. You know?" Jennifer smiled, gently stroking her hair. "Catherine, I've watched you grow up. Compared to the lady, I can see you from a different angle. So, I want to ask you, what are you afraid of?"
Catherine was stunned. Indeed, if she explained everything she did clearly to her parents, it wouldn't be a big deal. After all, she had been a "genius" since she started learning painting and piano as a child. So, why was she so secretive, even forging her father's signature?
She scratched her head in frustration, soon realizing the reason for her actions, but the problem was that this reason couldn't be voiced. So the little girl finally sighed and said, "I don't know, Jennifer, maybe I'm just insecure. I don't know what's wrong."
"Alright, if that's the case, don't overthink it. Just don't do it again, okay? Don't make everyone worry." The housekeeper said seriously.
"Yes, I understand. I promise I won't do it again." Catherine raised her hand, earnestly swearing.
"Well, that's settled then," Jennifer stroked her head again and then said, "But, Catherine, do you really think I'm an emotional, crying woman?"
"Huh?" Catherine was stunned again but quickly realized what she meant. In the script for "The Parent Trap," the housekeeper character was described that way. That afternoon, she had told Nancy it was based on her family's situation, so…
"Well... you know... Aunt Jennifer, in art... there's always... some exaggeration or..." The little one explained, flustered. The housekeeper, already standing up, laughed, "Alright, little one, I get it. After all, it's your writing, so whatever you say goes."
Seriously, is she teasing me? Catherine puffed out her cheeks in frustration, then heard Jennifer, who had already reached the door, say, "By the way, little one, don't bother your parents tonight."
"Oh?" Catherine raised an eyebrow. Could it be...
"Yes... they'll be very busy tonight."
Of course!