Now, they wanted me to make it for someone else. Had this happened in the past, I would have put up a fight.
But now, I merely nodded calmly.
“I’m on it.”
I wasn’t sure how I made it to the kitchen, but the act of staying busy helped me forget many things. Things like unhappiness and exhaustion.
Having received wind, Rhianne showed up in the kitchen shortly after. “El, thank you for cooking for me.”
“It’s nothing.” I didn’t look up at her but rather remained focused on my work.
“What are you making? Can I help?”
Like a curious child, Rhianne wandered around, her movements full of naïve energy. She tried to touch the pot lid, which was unquestionably scalding hot. I panicked and tried to stop her.
But she was faster. She burned herself and instinctively flung the lid aside, spilling hot soup onto me.
The lid, as if it had a will of its own, landed directly on my leg.
A loud crash echoed as I collided with the ground, unable to utter a sound from the pain.
“What happened?”
Jeffrey was the first to rush in, visibly anxious. In his haste, he stepped on my hand while dashing straight to Rhianne’s side.
“Eleanor, I warned you already. What kind of tantrum are you throwing now? Don’t forget your place,” he berated through gritted teeth.
Before I could pull back my red and swollen hand, Ivor trod right over the same spot.
“Eleanor, is this the upbringing you received?”
Three pairs of eyes bore into me as I blew gently on my throbbing hand and staggered to my feet.
“Jeff, Ives, this has nothing to do with El. I wanted to help, but I didn’t realize the lid would be so hot. Don’t blame her. She didn’t do it on purpose.”
They always said that children from poor families had no choice but to grow up quickly. Whenever they scolded me, they would talk about how Rhianne endured countless hardships in my place.
But now that something actually happened, they seemed to have forgotten something. Surely, someone who had supposedly suffered so much would know better than to touch a scalding lid!
