Chapter 132 Fiorello Returns
The reactions of Alan and Susan were a clear indication to Maggie that there was something amiss regarding the injuries on Adalia's small body. Susan maintained a stony silence, while Alan offered a strained smile, attempting to explain away the child's wounds. "She's a bit of a tomboy, always getting into scrapes with the other kids in the complex. That's why she's always covered in bruises," he said.Maggie, however, found this explanation hard to swallow. "Adalia is a quiet child, and she looks... undernourished," she countered.Susan's response was sharp and defensive. "I would never mistreat my child," she snapped. "You're an outsider. Stay out of our family affairs." With that, she abruptly shut the door in Maggie's face.Left standing outside, Maggie could faintly hear Alan chastising Susan. "Why did you lose your temper? Now she'll think we're the bad guys.""I didn't lose my temper," Susan retorted, her voice laced with exhaustion. "I do everything in this house. I'm tired..."Maggie lingered at the door for a moment longer, torn between her concern for Adalia and her respect for the family's privacy. In the end, she had no choice but to walk away.As she descended in the elevator, Maggie's mind was filled with images of the disorderly state of Alan's apartment, cluttered with baby items. Yet, conspicuously absent were any signs of a little girl's presence, particularly in the shoe cabinet by the door.The memory of Adalia's ill-fitting shoes and her injuries weighed heavily on Maggie's mind. It was painfully clear that the child was not thriving in her current environment.While she was powerless to intervene directly, she knew that there were others who could. The community and the police had the authority to step in.With this in mind, Maggie placed a call to the community center, detailing her concerns and hoping that the staff there could mediate the situation.After Maggie's departure, Adalia awoke to find herself alone with Susan, a prospect that filled her with terror."Go and do the laundry and mop the floor," Susan barked. "We don't tolerate idleness in this house. If you don't finish your chores, you won't eat lunch."Adalia, frightened, hurried to comply. While other children her age were being coddled and spoiled by their parents, Adalia was subjected to a harsher reality.Her days were filled with endless chores, and despite being nearly five years old, she had never set foot in a kindergarten. She was often left hungry and was frequently subjected to Susan's violent outbursts.The bruises that marred her small body were a testament to Susan's cruelty.Alan, though sympathetic to Adalia's plight, could do little more than watch helplessly as his wife mistreated their child. "Don't be so hard on her," he would plead. "She's just a child." But his pleas fell on deaf ears.
Susan's gaze bore into Alan with a ferocity that made him wince. "Your words are as empty as the air they displace," she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "I told you to get rid of Adalia, why didn't you abandon her? Adalia is not our biological child. It costs us so much to raise her, and I get angry just looking at her."
Alan, however, still harbored a tenderness for the girl. "If we cast her out, she will be destitute," he countered, his voice soft but resolute. "I'll find more work, earn more money. You focus on our other children. Stop taking your frustrations out on Adalia. It's not a good look when the neighbors see it. It breaks my heart to see her injuries.""But why do you feel pity for a stranger over your own son?" Susan retorted, her voice rising in pitch. "Tell me the truth, Alan. Is that girl your illegitimate child? Did you trick me into adopting her?""That's absurd," Alan protested, his defenses crumbling under the weight of her accusations. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of crumpled bills. "Use this to buy Adalia some shoes, maybe a few outfits. I have to head to the construction site this afternoon. She won't be ungrateful when she's older. Having a daughter in addition to our son... it's a blessing."Alan had come to terms with their situation. Whether Adalia was their biological child or not was irrelevant. They had spent enough time together to form a bond, a familial affection.But Alan's work often took him away from home for extended periods, leaving Adalia vulnerable.Caught between his wife and son on one side, and their adopted daughter on the other, Alan found himself in a delicate balancing act. He couldn't risk alienating his wife, so he did his best to mediate the situation.Susan snatched the money from his hand, her mood lifting slightly as she counted the bills in a crude display of greed. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Go, do what you must. As long as you bring home the money, you needn't concern yourself with the affairs of this house."Alan made a hasty exit, pausing only to glance at Adalia in the bathroom. "Listen to Susan while I'm away, Adalia. I'm going out to earn our keep."Adalia remained silent, squatting on the floor with a bundle of clothes clutched in her hands. Her eyes followed Alan, a silent plea etched in their depths.Only in Alan's presence did Adalia's life improve, even if only marginally.Alan sighed, his heart heavy as he looked at the once vibrant girl. Since Susan's pregnancy and the birth of their son, their attention had naturally shifted away from Adalia.Gradually, Adalia had retreated into herself, speaking less and less.Alan left for work, and Susan, clutching the money, instructed Adalia to tend to the house while she went shopping with their son.Meanwhile, Maggie found herself unable to shake thoughts of Adalia from her mind. She even dreamed of the girl.She called the community center to inquire about the mediation results, only to learn that Susan had forcefully ejected the community staff. There was no way to ascertain Adalia's living conditions.Maggie's days were filled with errands and dealing with her downstairs neighbor's incessant complaints about a leak. She contacted a renovation company in an attempt to rectify the issue, her weekend passing in a blur of activity.Fiorello had been sending her messages since their last phone call, but she responded with curt, perfunctory replies.Still angry, Maggie went about her daily routine, not bothering to ask when Fiorello would return from his business trip.One evening, Maggie returned home from work. As she reached for the light switch, she felt a familiar presence envelop her, a pair of strong arms pinning her against the wall."Missed me?" a deep, magnetic voice purred, oozing sensuality. "Are you still angry?"
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