Recalling that, I called Rhea again, pressing her about the bunny. But again, she just brushed me off with the same reason.
"She’s thirteen now. It’s normal for kids to outgrow their toys," she snapped, her tone impatient. "Maybe she gave it to Astrid. Stop overthinking and focus on work." Right after saying that, she directly hung up on me.
Her reaction didn’t sit right. Rhea used to dote on Zera. When Zera was little, even the smallest scrape would send her into a panic, insisting we rush to the hospital. And she definitely wouldn’t have forgotten the fever incident. But lately, her care for our daughter lessened. Even when Zera accidentally cut her hand, Rhea would have just told her to clean it with disinfectant herself.
The unease gnawed at me. So, I handed off the rest of my project to a colleague and booked the next flight home.
While waiting at the airport, I checked Astrid's social media again. But this time, her posts were gone.
Then I remembered my old backup account. I logged in and checked again. Sure enough, the posts were still there — she'd blocked me.
Looking closer, I realized every single item in her photos was designer. A limited-edition Louis Vuitton bag. A necklace worth tens of thousands of dollars.
Astrid was only thirteen!
Floyd's POV
Astrid was just a girl we took in a couple of years ago. How did she get so much money?
On the other hand, Zera, we raised her to be modest and never show off. The most expensive clothing she owned didn’t even cost a hundred dollars. Curious and uneasy, I called our housekeeper and driver to ask about Astrid.
Surprisingly, they all said the same thing — that Astrid was a sweet, frugal girl. They claimed she rarely spent money on herself, wearing her clothes until they were practically threadbare.
But the more they praised her, the more uneasy I felt. It sounded rehearsed, almost like they were covering something up.
If Astrid was so frugal, then where did the designer bags and expensive jewelry come from? Was I really overthinking things?
When news spread that I was coming back, my employees offered to pick me up at the airport. They joked that after nearly a year apart, they might not recognize their boss.