The sitting room was large and beautiful. The floor was made of shiny marble tiles that reflected the light from a big crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the ceiling. The walls were painted a soft cream color and decorated with expensive looking paintings
There were soft, green velvet sofas arranged around a dark wood coffee table. On the table was a gold tray with artificial flowers and books. Tall windows were covered with long silk curtains that moved gently when the air conditioner was on.
In one corner stood a tall bookshelf filled with books. Everything looked clean, expensive, and perfectly arranged. It was the kind of room that showed the owner had a lot of money and good taste.
Celine had just returned from school. Her steps were slow, her shoulders slumped, and her usually bright eyes looked dull and tired. She dropped her schoolbag by the door and collapsed onto the long velvet sofa in the sitting room. In her hands, she held a thin green file—her school report—clutched loosely like it had lost all meaning.
The sitting room was quiet, except for the faint ticking of the wall clock and the hum of the air conditioner. The late afternoon sun spilled through the tall glass windows, casting golden streaks across the marble floor. The room, though beautiful and full of expensive furniture, felt cold and empty—much like the way Celine felt inside.
From the kitchen, Loveth, the family's longtime nanny and housekeeper, called out cheerfully, "Celine, welcome! Go and change out of your uniform, my dear."
There was no reply.
Loveth paused, frowned slightly, and wiped her hands on her apron. Something wasn't right. Celine was usually chatty when she got home—sometimes complaining about homework or sharing stories from school. But today, silence.
Worried, Loveth walked into the sitting room. She saw the girl sitting still, staring blankly at the file in her lap. Loveth's heart sank. She moved to her and sat down beside her, her voice soft.
"What's the matter, Celine? You look so down. Did something happen at school?"
Celine didn't answer immediately. She stared at the floor, lips pressed together. Finally, in a quiet voice, she said, "It's the end of the session today. I got my results."
Loveth's expression softened with understanding. "Oh, I see. Did your parents come to school for the result presentation?"
Celine shook her head, her grip tightening slightly on the file. "No. Dad's assistant came instead. He said they were too busy... again."
Her voice cracked, and she looked away. "They never come, Aunt Loveth. Not once."
Loveth gently rubbed her back. "I'm sorry, my dear. But you know your parents love you. They're doing their best to give you a better life."
But they both knew that wasn't really true—not fully. Celine's parents were rarely around. Even when they were, they barely asked about her. They were often too disappointed to look beyond the grades.
Celine opened the file and handed it to Loveth. Her fingers trembled slightly. "I came 9th in class," she said in a small voice.
Loveth's face brightened. "9th? That's wonderful! That's a big improvement from before, isn't it?"
Celine stood up abruptly, her voice rising. "No, it's not enough! Aunt Loveth, 9th place won't get me an award. It won't get me on stage, it won't make Mom smile or Dad call me smart. I've always been at the bottom or somewhere in the middle since I started school. I try—I really try! But I'm tired of always being average. I just want one award. One moment."
Her voice shook as she added, "I just want them to be proud of me."
Loveth listened, her heart breaking a little. She had raised Celine more than her parents ever had. She knew how hard the girl worked. How many nights she stayed up reading and rewriting her notes, hoping to improve.
"I've seen their school records," Celine said bitterly. "They were both top of their classes. Always. But me? I struggle. Maybe I'm just not like them... Maybe something is wrong with me."
Loveth gasped softly and reached out, gently placing her fingers over Celine's lips. "Don't say that. Never say that again. You are not jinxed. You are not broken. You are just... you. And that's more than enough. Everyone grows differently. You are still finding your path."
Celine wiped her eyes, but the tears kept coming. "But what if I never find it? I'm going to junior high next year. The exams... the pressure... I'm scared."
Loveth held her hands. "Being scared is okay. It means you care. But don't let fear stop you. You're growing, Celine. Every step forward, even a small one, matters."
The girl looked up at her with wet, confused eyes. "Why do you believe in me so much, Aunt Loveth? Mom says my head is like a basket—everything falls out. Dad thinks my brain is like a stone, and not even water can go in."
Loveth let out a soft laugh, her eyes kind. "That's because they don't know what I know. You are more than what you seem. You just need time to bloom. And your parents? They probably need a magnifying glass to see it."
She smiled warmly and added, "And if they don't have one, I'll buy it for them. A big, shiny one."
Celine laughed, really laughed this time. It was the first true smile on her face that day. She threw her arms around Loveth and hugged her tight.
"Now," Loveth said, patting her back, "go and change out of that uniform. I made your favorite—chocolate chip cookies. Fresh from the oven."
"Really? You did?" Celine pulled back, eyes wide with excitement.
"Yes, and if you wait too long, I just might eat them all."
Celine giggled and kissed her cheek. "You're the best, Aunt Loveth!"
With a skip in her step, she ran upstairs, her spirit a little lighter. Loveth watched her go, the sound of her laughter echoing up the stairs. She leaned back on the sofa, smiling to herself.
No, Celine wasn't broken. She was just a flower taking her time to bloom.