Emilia’s POV
As we continue our journey through the supermarket, someone suddenly calls my name and I turn to look. To my surprise, it was Dakota, one of my high schoolmates whom I haven’t met in a long time.
I pause and regard her. It’s been a long time since I last saw her but she still seems to have that air of arrogance around her. I eye her, wondering why she chose to call me and say hi when she could have walked away. We have never been on good terms anyway.
“Hi,” she calls out as she walks forward. “It’s been such a long time.”
I feign a smile and respond, “Yes, it’s been a long time.”
Dakota looks me up and down, her eyes lingering on my face for a moment. “You haven’t changed much,” she comments casually.
I raise an eyebrow, somewhat taken aback by her statement. “Well, thank you, I suppose,” I reply, not entirely sure how to interpret her words.
She quickly recovers and forces a smile on her face. “You’re living a good life, I can tell,” she says, her voice tinged with a hint of bitterness.
I study her for a moment, sensing the underlying tension in her words. Our history is complicated, filled with past grievances and unresolved conflicts. I can’t help but wonder why she’s trying to force a conversation with me now, after all these years.
I glance at Daisy and Daniel, who is standing beside me, their innocence radiating from their bright smiles. Dakota’s attention shifts to them, and she comments, “Your children are beautiful. When did you get married?”
I hesitate for a moment, unsure how much I want to share with her. “I’m not married,” I reply, keeping my answer brief.
Dakota raises an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flashing across her face. “Oh, I assumed… my mistake then,” she says, trying to hide her disappointment.
I can sense the unspoken questions lingering in the air, questions about my relationship status and the choices I’ve made. But I don’t owe her any explanations. Our paths diverged long ago, and it’s evident that our lives have taken different directions.
I shift the conversation back to Dakota, attempting to maintain a polite tone. “So, how about you? How have you been?” I ask, hoping to divert the focus away from my personal life.
Dakota hesitates for a moment before answering, her expression guarded. “I’ve been doing well, thank you. Working, traveling… you know how it goes.”
I nod, understanding her need for privacy. “That sounds great. It’s good to hear that you’re doing well.”
There’s an awkward silence between us, and I’m about to find a way to say goodbye when I notice Daisy’s attention being diverted to something in the distance. She stops in her tracks and points excitedly. “Aunt Emilia, look! It’s a puppy!”
I follow her gaze and see a small puppy running playfully through the aisles. It’s an adorable sight, and I can understand why Daisy is captivated by it. I quickly assess the situation and realize that Daisy might try to chase after the puppy out of curiosity.
“Daisy, wait!” I call out, but she’s already off, running after the puppy with a mixture of excitement and determination.
Concerned for her safety, I quickly start to move in their direction. Before I can take more than a few steps, I notice Daniel following closely behind her. He may not always show it, but he has a protective nature when it comes to his sister.
“Daniel, be careful!” I call out to him, urging him to stay safe as well.
I turn back to Dakota and say, “I’ll get going now.” Without waiting for her response, I pick up my pace and make my way through the aisles, trying to catch up with Daisy and Daniel. The supermarket is bustling with people, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to spot them among the crowd. Panic starts to rise within me as I call out their names, hoping they will hear me and stop.
Finally, I catch a glimpse of Daisy’s bright pink dress disappearing around a corner. I turn the corner, my heart pounding in my chest, and see Daisy and Daniel standing near the end of the aisle, with two women beside them. There is also a crowd of people watching from the side, not shopping anymore.
Her heart constricts and I don’t know what to make of the situation.
Sophia’s POV
I walk down the beverages aisle, scanning the shelves for my favorite drinks. I pick up a few items along the way and carefully place them into my shopping trolley. As I emerge into the open space, my attention is drawn to a commotion nearby. Curiosity piqued, I turn my gaze towards the source of the disturbance.
There, in the midst of it all, stands a woman, her face contorted with anger as she chastises two little kids.
“You little brat, how dare you…? Where is your mother!? Tell her to come here and talk how to repay me.”
I see the kids recoil in fright. The sight troubles me, and I can’t help but feel bothered by the woman’s harsh words and intimidating demeanor. It’s clear that the children are frightened, their innocent faces marred by fear and confusion.
“You little truants! Who knows who gave birth to such bastards?”
I can’t help but frown at her use of words.
As I stand there, a few other shoppers who witnessed the scene start murmuring and exchanging disapproving glances.
Shopper 1: “Did you hear what she just said? That’s no way to talk to children!”
Shopper 2: “Absolutely disgraceful! Those poor kids don’t deserve to be spoken to like that.”
Shopper 3: “I can’t believe her audacity. Who does she think she is?”
Shopper 1: “She’s being so rude and disrespectful. It’s appalling.”
Shopper 4: “I feel sorry for those kids. No child should have to endure such harsh treatment.”
Shopper 2: “Someone needs to step in and do something. This woman shouldn’t get away with this behavior.”
Shopper 3: “I agree. We can’t just stand by and let her bully those children.”
As the woman continues her tirade, the disgruntled shoppers become more vocal in expressing their discontent.
Shopper 4: “Someone should find their mother and let her know what’s happening. She needs to defend her children.”
Shopper 1: “I’ll go and talk to a store employee. They need to intervene and protect those kids.”
Shopper 2: “Good idea. The store shouldn’t tolerate this kind of behavior from its customers.”
Intrigued by the unfolding scene, I take a few steps closer, trying to understand the cause of the woman’s anger. It soon becomes apparent that the kids had accidentally collided with her, resulting in the tearing off of a pearl from her bag. I observe the younger sister, standing timidly behind her brother, clutching a small puppy in her arms. The innocence radiating from the younger girl, coupled with the adorable presence of the pup, tugs at my heart.
With a growing sense of empathy, I hesitate for a moment, contemplating my next move. I decide to intervene, approaching the woman with a calm and composed demeanor. My voice gentle but firm, I address the situation, seeking to defuse the tension and protect the children from further distress.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” I speak softly, trying to capture the woman’s attention. “I couldn’t help but notice what happened. I understand your frustration, but perhaps we can find a peaceful resolution to this. The children didn’t mean any harm, and they seem genuinely sorry for what happened.”
The woman’s eyes narrow as she turns her attention to me. Her anger still smolders, but my calm approach seems to catch her off guard.
“And who are you to meddle in my affairs? These brats ruined my bag! Are you their mother? Who knows where you keep running around to letting such troublesome brats run around?”
“I am not their mother but I can’t stand the way you keep calling such innocent kids names,” I say. “That’s no way to talk to kids and they are about to cry. At least have some compassion.”
“Just go away,” she berates dismissively, waving her hand.
I maintain my composure, refusing to let her hostility deter me from advocating for the children.
“I’m just a concerned bystander who believes in treating others with kindness and understanding. Accidents happen, and it’s important to teach children rather than berate them. Is there a way we can resolve this without causing further distress?”
The woman scoffs dismissively but seems momentarily taken aback by my composed demeanor.
Shopper 3: “She’s right! Those kids didn’t mean any harm. You should find a way to resolve this peacefully.”
Shopper 2: “Exactly! It’s not their fault. Don’t take your anger out on innocent children.”
Shopper 4: “Have some compassion! They’re just kids!”
The woman hesitates for a moment, her angry facade wavering slightly when she hears their words . She glances at the children, who are now visibly shaken but still standing their ground.
“Fine! You better pay for it or I’m not letting them go. Do you know how much this bag costs? It’s worth eight figures,” she says.