Third Person's POV
Unseen by his Grandma, Rafael tugged a faint smirk at the corner of his lips. Everything was running exactly as he had calculated.
"Reece, Vae, don't be like that. It was a slip of the hand. Grandma didn't mean to splash Mommy. Calm down, dear." Viona tried to soothe them. She had never intended for her children to hate their great-grandparents. But why had they suddenly shown up like this… even bringing a plastic sword?
It had never crossed Clara Kleith's mind that she would be rejected by tiny children. She genuinely only wanted to hug them, because when she saw them earlier, something warm and bubbly burst inside her chest.
The great-grandchildren she had longed for, waited for, were finally within reach. But now their indifference cut deep. How could they call her a witch? She wanted to blame something, to scold Viona, but she realized it would only make the triplets hate her more. She needed to win their hearts first.
