Chapter 2

Molina looked me over suspiciously.

"Eliot, what's going on here?"

Eliot immediately pulled me up. "Molina, she's lying to you! Look how tall she is, taller than me even, and wearing all those designer brands. How could she possibly be only thirteen?"

She leaned over and whispered in Molina's ear.

Molina immediately slammed the table. "You're the one who lost the Merritt Group order! And offended Mr. Merritt?"

Merritt Group? That's my uncle's company! The Mr. Merritt she mentioned is my cousin Kevin Merritt.

But I hadn't seen him since last month's family gathering.

I waved my hands frantically.

"I didn't! I don't know anything about any order! I'm just here waiting for my dad to get off work!"

"This woman is such a good actress! Her parents probably aren't any better. Like parents, like child!"

Eliot raised her chin, her face full of disdain.

I got angry and rushed over to push Eliot.

"Don't you dare talk about my mom and dad!"

Eliot and I wrestled together. Molina pulled us apart and glared at me sternly.

That look was like she wanted to devour me. I shrank back.

Eliot tugged at her arm coquettishly: "Fire her already! Keeping someone like this in the company will only tempt Mr. Robertson!"

Robertson! She's talking about my dad?

I loudly protested: "I would never tempt Mr. Robertson, because Mr. Robertson is my dad!"

Both Molina and Eliot froze.

Eliot leaned in to examine me, then suddenly giggled.

"Are you insane? Everyone knows Mr. Robertson is a golden bachelor in his thirties.

If you're going to lie, at least make it believable. He's not even married. How could he have a child? Even if he did, it couldn't be someone as old as you."

"Besides, you look nothing like Mr. Robertson. If you said you were his family's housekeeper, I'd believe that."

I retorted indignantly: "I don't look like Dad, but I look like Mom.

And Dad doesn't go public because of Mom's profession..."

Slap!

I don't know which sentence upset Eliot, but she slapped me again.

"If you keep slandering Mr. Robertson's reputation, I'll beat you to death!"

I covered my face and sobbed.

Molina pulled Eliot back.

She turned and scolded me with disgust: "Stop crying. You're not a child. Take responsibility for your mistakes! What's your name? Which department?"

I hung my head sadly.

"Molina's asking you a question! Playing deaf, are you?" Eliot came over and reached into my pockets. "Where's your ID badge?"

I was at a loss. "I don't have an ID badge."

Molina's frown deepened.

"No ID badge? Are you a contract employee? But wait, contractors have badges too..."

Eliot yanked at my pocket until she tore a big hole, finally feeling something hard.

"Found it! Bitch, you said you didn't have a badge!"

She pulled it out—it was a student ID card.

It clearly read: "Grade 7, Class 8, Colleen Robertson."