Who does this bitch think she is? Defend your freinds and nighbors.

“I’m not sure where you grew up, but the people in my neighborhood were very good,” you say sharp, “they weren’t rich, but they helped each other. One of them often let me stay with his children when mother had to work late. Another one sometimes gave us some noodles for free when we were out of money. And mom cured them, when they were injured and can’t afford treatment.”

“And where did you got these rags?” Veronica asks snobbish, “that’s no way to dress for a girl of your stand. Your mother should have brought you to some adequate businesses.”

“The top is from a second-hand shop, the jeans are from discounter,” you answer as proud as possible, just to mock this bitch, “and the hoody I got from a friend on Christmas two years ago. Do you want to borrow it? It keeps warm. Unlike the curtain you are wearing.”

“Well, my dear,” your uncle interrupts before the argument increases, “I heard you are one of the best students in your class. How was your old school?”

“It was difficult to be honest,” you answer, “the teachers were poorly paid. So, half of them was not interested to do anything more than necessary. Others tried to help and improve us. I was one of the students it worked. But a lot were not so lucky. We had junkies, gang members and perverts. But as long as we kept on distance and don’t allowed ourselves to become a victim, everything was fine.”

“Yes, that’s the spirt,” your uncle says proud, “when you show these cowards you can bite they quickly crawl back to their mothers.”

“I see,” you say amused and give William a devilish look, “I wonder if this works on all cowards.”

“I indeed recognized my son being surprising quiet,” your father says and takes a sip of his wine, “did something happened between you two?”

“That’s a good question, dad,” you say, “well, William, did something happened between us?”

“No, nothing,” William mumbles and don’t dares to look in your eyes, “I just wanted to meet my lost sister. Nothing else happened.”

“I see,” your father mumbles and grins amused, “well, my dear, we have a lot to catch up. I want to know more about my child.”