Thorns Grow After Betrayal (Celeste and Chester) novel Chapter 63

"If your hearing's that bad, then go get it checked out!"

"I can't afford it."

Carmen's face turned red with frustration. Without another word, she shoved a thick stack of sketches at her. "Sort these by year, categorize each batch, and write up an introduction highlighting their features. I want the file on my desk before you leave tonight!"

Celestine frowned.

If she remembered correctly, before these sketches were printed, all the files should've been sorted on the computer already.

It was clear Carmen was just picking on the interns.

But this time, Flossie didn't argue. She simply took the pile in silence.

Word around the office was that jobs were hard to come by these days, and Flossie seemed like the type who'd rather avoid trouble than make waves.

"Need a hand?"

Flossie puffed her cheeks and waved her off. "No, Celly, she's doing this on purpose! Only a fool would play along. I'm telling on her to the boss!"

Celestine's eyes widened in surprise.

She watched as Flossie stormed off, phone in hand. "Violet! That old witch is at it again—taking advantage of your precious intern while you're away!"

Celestine couldn't help but laugh.

Maybe she was overthinking things.

The company might have grown, but the people who stayed on were just as endearing as ever.

At lunch, Celestine overheard Carmen arguing loudly in the hallway, phone pressed to her ear.

"Violet, have you lost your mind? Micromanaging an intern, really? You think I'm an idiot? You're calling me stupid? Just wait till you get back—I'll show you who's stupid!"

Carmen was still grumbling when she caught Celestine's gaze, her temper flaring. "What are you staring at?"

"Your strap's slipped," Celestine said, deadpan.

Without waiting for a response, she walked off, pretending not to notice Carmen's embarrassment.

That afternoon, Crystal Lennox pulled her into a sudden meeting.

But when she got to the table, all her usual treats were missing. Instead, there was plain porridge, some boiled eggs, and a bowl of bitter, dark medicine.

Celia wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I'm not eating this slop! I want my pastries!"

"This is all there is for breakfast. If you're not eating, you can go hungry." Ms. Brown adjusted her glasses, her tone icy.

"Fine! I don't care!" Celia huffed and stomped off to the playroom.

But when she opened the door, the room was completely empty.

"Where are my dolls? Where are my toys? Nanny! Someone's robbed us!"

"It's not that, Miss Celia. Ms. Brown confiscated your toys. Unless you finish your poetry reading, there won't be any playtime for you today," the nanny explained gently.

Celia instantly threw herself on the floor, howling. "This is cruel! You're all so mean! I want my daddy! You're torturing me!"

Ms. Brown watched the little girl's tantrum with a cold expression, signaling the others not to intervene.

"Your father has returned to Portside City. He's too busy to be bothered with your little outbursts."