Chapter 39: Let Them Fight
The dinner atmosphere was eerie yet harmonious.
Sarah and John were clearly thrilled with their "new" expanded family.
Sarah kept piling food onto Esther and Emma's plates, asking about their day, completely immersed in the overflowing joy of motherhood.
John smiled beside her, occasionally cracking a few dad jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, though with little success.
At the dinner table, the three "little girls" performed flawlessly.
Esther's manners were impeccable, her conversation appropriate; every word she spoke carried respect for her elders and a careful deference to her new environment, making her seem like a well-bred daughter with excellent upbringing.
Emma, on the other hand, fully leveraged her doll-like appearance, speaking words of thanks in a sweet voice, her large eyes blinking, so innocent she practically glowed with purity, easily winning over John and Sarah.
And Lily, as the "original" little sister of the family, displayed just the right amount of introversion and a hint of shyness toward the new arrivals. She spent most of her time eating quietly, only answering softly when her parents spoke to her, occasionally glancing up at Edward as if confirming her master's instructions.
Only Edward knew the turbulent undercurrents beneath this peaceful dinner table.
Esther and Emma seemed to be engaging with their parents, but their peripheral vision never left each other or Lily, like two predators entering the same territory, sizing up their opponent's strength and threat level.
And Lily, like a beast feigning sleep, appeared docile but was taking in everyone's reactions, especially those of the two new "toys."
"Alright, kids, everyone full?" Sarah wiped her mouth with a napkin, a satisfied smile on her face. "Edward, take your sisters to hang out. Your father and I need to clean up."
"Sure thing!" Edward pushed back from the table and stood up.
The three girls' gazes immediately locked onto him.
"Lily, come with me for a sec," Edward called out directly.
Lily immediately nodded obediently and hopped off her chair.
A flicker of calculation simultaneously crossed Esther and Emma's faces.
Clearly, in this family, the relationship between big brother Edward and little sister Lily was... unusual.
Edward led Lily upstairs, straight into Lily's pink, doll and lace-filled princess room.
He casually closed the door, shutting out everything outside.
In the room, Lily, who'd been as docile as a kitten a second ago, instantly changed her expression.
That demonic, sinister aura returned. She looked at Edward, a flattering smile curving her lips.
"Master, what are your orders?"
"I've only got one more day off, but I need to head out," Edward said directly. He walked to Lily's desk, picked up a unicorn figurine, and casually examined it. "Mom and Dad also have to go to the station to handle the follow-up paperwork for Emma and Esther. So tomorrow during the day, it'll just be the three of you here."
Lily's eyes instantly lit up, excitement like a predator catching a scent.
"You mean..."
"You know exactly what I mean," Edward put down the figurine and turned, looking down at her. "Those two aren't pushovers, especially the one named Esther—there's an adult soul in that body.
The other one, though she's small, is slicker than a greased pig.
You can 'play' with them. Let them know who the real 'little sister' of this family is."
Having received permission from the "warden," Lily could no longer suppress her inner glee. She put her hands on her hips, tilted her head back, and let out her characteristic villainous cackle.
"Hee hee hee hee hee..."
"Smack!"
Edward accurately flicked Lily on the back of her head. The force wasn't hard, but it was enough to interrupt her 'performance.'
"Lily."
"Yes! What is it, Master?" Lily immediately stopped laughing, clutching her head, looking at him with wounded puppy eyes.
"How many times have I told you? Don't laugh like that. It sounds awful, like a dying hyena," Edward complained with a look of disgust.
"Aww..." Lily pouted.
"Remember, don't go overboard," Edward finally instructed. "Don't leave any mess that I'll have to clean up when I get back—like bodies or severed limbs. Those are a real pain to deal with. Just let them know fear, and make sure they understand the pecking order here."
"I know my limits!" Lily immediately puffed out her small chest, promising solemnly.
Of course she knew her limits—her master meant that as long as nobody died, she could play however she wanted.
Edward nodded with satisfaction and turned to leave Lily's room. He needed to go shower and get a good night's sleep; he had important business tomorrow.
As for the "Game of Thrones" about to unfold in the house, he'd consider it a little entertainment for his boring life.
He returned to his room, took a hot shower, washing away the road dust and fatigue, then collapsed into the soft, king-sized bed and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
Meanwhile, in another temporarily prepared guest room, the atmosphere had dropped to sub-zero.
Sarah and John, wanting the two new girls to feel the warmth of family, had specifically arranged for them to share a room.
The room was spacious, with two twin beds separated by a nightstand.
Esther, wearing the silk nightgown Sarah had found for her, sat on the edge of the bed, slowly and methodically braiding her two signature pigtails.
Her movements were gentle and patient, as if she were performing some kind of ritual.
On the other bed, Emma hugged her teddy bear, lying on her side, her innocent blue eyes unblinkingly watching Esther's back.
The room was very quiet, with only the soft sound of the brush passing through hair.
"Emma, aren't you going to sleep?" Esther didn't turn around, but her voice clearly rang out in the room, carrying a hint of "big sister" concern.
"I'm thinking," Emma's voice was still so clear and melodious, like wind chimes.
"Kids shouldn't think too much. It's not healthy," Esther put down the brush, turned around, a gentle smile on her face. "Everyone in this family is very kind, especially Mom and Dad—they're going to take such good care of us."
She deliberately emphasized the words "Mom and Dad," as if staking a claim.
Emma sat up, hugging her teddy bear. She tilted her head, her golden curls falling down, looking incredibly cute: "But they aren't our Mom and Dad.
My Mom and Dad are already dead."
Her tone was flat, without a ripple, as she stated this fact, as if commenting on the weather.
Esther's smile froze for a moment.
This little girl was trickier than she'd anticipated. Her seemingly innocent words were like a scalpel, precisely cutting through the "family" illusion Esther was trying to create.
"I'm so sorry, Emma," Esther quickly adjusted her expression, a sympathetic look on her face. "Everything you've been through is horrible.
From now on, I'll take care of you like a real big sister."
As she spoke, she got out of bed, wanting to sit on Emma's bed to demonstrate her "sisterly affection."
However, Emma spoke first.
"Esther, why do you have restraint marks on your wrist?" Emma pointed to Esther's wrist. Although it was covered by the sleeve of her nightgown, some faint ligature marks were still visible—souvenirs from the psychiatric facility.
Esther's movements stopped. She instinctively pulled her hand back, hiding it behind her.
"It's nothing. I hurt myself by accident," her voice was still gentle, but it had taken on an edge of frost.
"Really?" Emma's face still held that innocent expression: "I once read in a book that difficult patients in psychiatric hospitals get restrained. Sister, have you been to a psychiatric hospital?"
The air, at this moment, completely solidified.
The smile on Esther's face finally vanished without a trace. She looked at the golden-haired, blue-eyed doll in front of her and felt a chilling coldness for the first time.
This eight-year-old girl wasn't clueless. She was probing, testing, using the purest appearance to deliver the most vicious jabs.
"Where are you reading such nonsense?" Esther's voice grew cold, carrying the scrutiny and intimidation unique to an adult. "Kids shouldn't be reading that stuff."
"I have a really good memory," Emma answered vaguely. She tightened her grip on the teddy bear in her arms. "My aunt said that having too good a memory isn't always a blessing—you remember lots of things you shouldn't.
For example, I remember how my dad died, how the babysitter fell down the stairs, and why the teacher got 'accidentally' electrocuted."
With each sentence she spoke, Esther's face grew a shade paler.
This was no longer a hint—it was an outright threat. Emma was telling her: I'm not a survivor. I'm the disaster.
The two "girls" in the room—one a nine-year-old disguised adult psychopath, the other an innocent-looking antisocial killer—finally shed their first layer of disguise at this moment.
They were engaging in their first confrontation, using a language only they could understand.
Esther sat back on her own bed. She no longer pretended to be the gentle big sister, but instead scrutinized Emma with a cold, calculating gaze.
"What do you want?" Esther asked.
"What I want, I take myself," Emma lay back down, hugging her teddy bear, pulling the covers over her body, leaving only her eyes exposed. "Just like my medals. Anyone who gets in my way has bad luck."
With that, she closed her eyes, as if truly asleep.
Esther sat in the darkness, motionless for a long time.
She felt as if she hadn't arrived at a warm sanctuary, but had stumbled into another, even more bizarre and dangerous cage.
In this house, that mysterious big brother, that seemingly introverted little sister who instinctively made her uneasy, and now this little demon who'd revealed her true colors...
Things seemed to be getting more and more interesting.
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