Jenny the Stripper ✔(Zodiac Predators Series #2) [UNDER REVISION]

Denouement

Papa looked around as if he is looking for something, "Stranno, Gde Ruru?"

I heard Jackquin's cough from her seat.

"Ushel," I casually answered while playing with my omelet. I gave my dear sister a deadly glare as I continue.

"Kto-to po gluposti dal yemu lekarstvo ot grippa."

Having a short temper, Jackquin met my glare with an equal shade of hate, "YA skazal, mne ochen' zhal'!"

I immediately lose my patience too. Well, what can you expect from a 5-year-old little girl?

Her mouth gape when I throw my fork on her plate.

"Smozhete li vy vernut' k zhizni moyu koshku?" I asked with a sarcastic and challenging tone. I crossed my arms and gave her an intimidating smirk, "Mozhesh'?"

"Dostatochno."

Papa's low and cavernous voice didn't stop me, nor my sister from provoking each other.

"Vy znayete, pochemu umer Ruru?" Jackquin stood from her sit furiously, "Eto iz-za tebya."

I scoffed immaturely.

"Moya vina?"

Jackquin nodded with wide eyes, "Da!"

I was about to fire back when I heard the front door opening.

Silence.

"You two were so loud that I can hear you from a mile. Are you fighting?"

I swallowed my saliva while glaring at Jackquin. I could see her hands shaking, not because of anger.

But in fear.

Papa rolled his wheelchair in reverse, his concerned face turn into a cheerful one.

"You are home," papa greeted our mother with a rough accent.

I set my anger aside and sit back on my chair, trying to finish my dinner without shaking.

Jackquin courageously walked in their direction, aiding our mother by getting all the paper bags from her hands.

"You were accepted?" papa asked while looking at the paper bags.

I saw mama smiled at him. It looks endearing.

"Oui," mama answered, removing her shoes.

Me and Jackquin exchanged glances, it's a French word. Papa doesn't know how to speak one, nor understand any single French word.

Jackquin gave me the it's-fine-look. It means there's nothing offensive in mother's words. My sister secretly knows how to understand French since she has a friend who's good with it.

My breath hitched when mama averted her eyes on me, "I bought some clothes for you, Jazzquin."

I pursed my lips.

"Thank you, mama."

She smiled again.

We finished dinner at exactly 8 pm. While Jackquin and papa were busy washing the dishes, mama insisted to try the clothes she bought for me.

"Belle," she commented in French with a tongue flick, her hands were on my shoulders, "You got my beauty and your father's skin."

I blinked while looking at myself in the mirror, I could see mama combing my hair from behind from the reflection.

It was a sleeveless violet dress that barely touches my knees, the design is simple and the shade compliments my white skin perfectly.

It's mama's favorite color, not mine.