Rebirth Of The Forgotten Heiress - Chapter 33: Chapter 33

Yalena's hand hung awkwardly in the air before she managed a strained smile. "Xavier, was it Quinlyn again? I'm so sorry. She never learned proper boundaries growing up in those rough neighborhoods. But I'll handle this—she won't bother you about whatever happened today."
"It's settled already," Xavier muttered, collapsing onto his bed. The admission tasted bitter. Being spared by that infuriating woman wasn't exactly something to celebrate, even if he knew she'd keep her word.
Yalena blinked in confusion. "What?"
"She canceled the bet." The words came out flat. He dragged a hand down his face, the humiliation still fresh.
Yalena said, "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn't—"
"Not your fault," he cut in with a tired sigh. "You're too soft, always backing down. Quinlyn... she fights for what she wants."
When Yalena opened her mouth to protest, he added, "But she's not malicious. Don't worry about it."
"What? Right, of course." Yalena's smile turned brittle. "I-I believe Quinlyn can be reasonable. I'll try harder to get along with her."
Leaving the room, Yalena's mind whirled with uneasy questions. 'How has Quinlyn managed this? Xavier has been furious enough to scream. That bet is also humiliating. So why is he suddenly defending her?'
Her nails dug into her palms as cold dread spread through her veins. None of what she had now truly belonged to her.
In her previous life, everyone had despised Quinlyn's crass behavior, leaving Yalena as the undisputed favorite. She'd even played the magnanimous sister occasionally, tossing Quinlyn scraps of sympathy.
But now, others were speaking up for Quinlyn first. The realization crept through her like poison, seeping into every pore. The script was changing, and she didn't know her lines anymore.
As Yalena stepped outside, she saw Quinlyn emerge from the kitchen, reheating the untouched crab and fish from earlier. Quinlyn transferred the food into a lidded pot and headed toward Yasin's room. "Hey," Yalena called out hesitantly.
Quinlyn's eyes flickered between the closed door behind Yalena and the girl's visibly sullen expression. The situation was clear enough—Xavier must have turned Yalena down. "What is it?" she asked.
A dozen complaints rose to Yalena's lips, but under Quinlyn's penetrating gaze, she averted her eyes. "Nothing. Just my clothes got soaked and dirty. Could I borrow something from you?"
The unexpected request gave Quinlyn pause—since when had Yalena changed tactics? A faint smile played on her lips as she shook her head. "Not happening." With that, she turned to leave.
"Are you really that disgusted by me?" Yalena's voice trembled. "You won't even spare me a change of clothes?"
Quinlyn stopped mid-stride. Just when Yalena expected another rejection, she turned back with a perfectly practiced fake smile. "You're sharper than you look."
Yalena's fists clenched tighter as she noticed movement in the shadows. "Is this because of Zachary?" she pressed.
"Not interested in babysitting," Quinlyn retorted, shifting the heavy pot—it contained most of the seafood stew, crammed to the brim with the remainder stashed elsewhere. She hadn't anticipated getting cornered for conversation at the doorway.
"Save the dramatic confrontations for someone else. I've got no time for late-night rehearsals." Quinlyn delivered her parting shot with genuine enthusiasm. "Do whatever you want—I'm rooting for you." The door clicked shut behind her in one smooth motion.
Her encouragement was sincere. The sooner Yalena stuck to the script, the quicker Quinlyn could wrap up this whole charade and make her exit.
Outside, Yalena watched the shadowy figure slip away, her anxiety spiking. 'Quinlyn has barely arrived. How has she already begun turning everyone against her? Am I about to lose everything?'
Covering her mouth, she spiraled into restless agitation. The memory of Beatrice and Yarden's behavior surfaced—she'd rather die than return to those so-called family.
Back in her room, Quinlyn was startled by a long-absent voice in her head. The Narrator said, [Due to Xavier and Zachary's cold treatment, Yalena has panicked. She's decided to use the item Beatrice gave her—and has split it into two portions as insurance.]
"Split into two? What item?" Quinlyn demanded.
The Narrator resumed its usual radio silence.
She scoffed inwardly, 'The Narrator is utterly useless. Early on, it's narrated every trivial detail—meal times or mood swings. Now, when something actually matters? Just one vague sentence. Other transmigrators got overpowered systems. And mine is glitchy, unreliable, and prone to disappearing mid-plot.'
[Character Perception Altered. Destiny Shift Progress: 30%] The mechanical voice cut in, still flat but with a subtle hint of exasperation—as if it was saying, "Alright, fine, here's your update. Happy now?"
The sudden interruption made her jump and scream.
Yasin, who'd been lounging on the bed, took the steaming pot from her. "Burn yourself?"
"No, just... sudden inspiration!" she fibbed.
With the Narrator back to ignoring her, Quinlyn pieced it together: Changing Xavier's opinion had triggered progress. But this was strange—neither the Guzman family interactions nor Logan's scenes had counted. She couldn't figure out why and mentally screamed the question into the void.
This time, the Narrator stayed stubbornly muted.
An observer might've found her mood swings concerning—glee to frustration to muttered complaints in seconds. But Yasin simply watched. Her behavior suggested silent communication with something only she could hear.
Resigned, Quinlyn turned to the crab. Food soothed most troubles. Still, she hadn't forgotten her partner-in-crime. Wiping her hands, she prepared to update Yasin.
But then, his character tag shimmered and morphed before her eyes: [Disposable Side Character] She blinked. 'Wait, what?'