THE SIXTH MISFORTUNE: RECKONING

Waking up to the sound of Odette's screeching "Good morning" to her father and the incessant drip from the ceiling had become Stella's daily ritual. Stella stretched lazily, feeling like a cat waking from a deep sleep, before slowly sitting up in her bed. With no energy to open the curtains and greet her boyfriend, she opted instead to trudge to the main hall.

Miguel had already set the table for breakfast, and Odette was seated next to him. As Stella entered the room, Odette's eyes flicked toward her, a smirk curling on her lips at the sight of Stella's approaching figure. "Good morning, Bella," Odette greeted with a saccharine sweetness that only further grated on Stella's nerves.

Stella barely glanced at Odette before looking away bitterly. She took her place opposite them and began eating her food, though the smell alone made her feel nauseous. The presence of Odette made even her favorite dishes taste like poison, and the act of eating felt like a chore. Yet, she forced herself to eat; survival was her only goal now, a life she had to live in accordance with what her birth mother had intended.

Odette watched her with an insincere smile, deliberately brushing her arm against Miguel's as she spoke. "Bella, isn't it a beautiful morning?"

Stella lifted her gaze from her spoon and glanced at the clock ticking in the hall before responding. "Yeah," she said, her voice flat. "You are exactly right. It is a beautiful morning."

Usually, when Odette tried to engage with her, Stella would either walk away or snap back, but today's calm response didn't seem to satisfy Odette. The sight of Stella drinking her soup with apparent indifference only seemed to fuel Odette's irritation. Making Stella's life miserable was a pastime for Odette, and today's response was just not enough for her.

Before Odette could retort, the doorbell rang. Stella immediately stood up. "I'll get it," she said, her voice carrying a hint of eagerness as she skipped to the door. As she opened it, Miguel's eyes widened in recognition.

"Lucy?" Miguel said, rising from his seat with a look of surprise.

Odette's gaze shifted to the beautiful woman standing at the door. "Honey," she began, grabbing Miguel's arm possessively. "Who is this woman?"

"We studied together in college," Miguel explained. "This is Lucy Flores. She's a lawyer with a great reputation."

"A lawyer?" Odette questioned, her curiosity piqued. "What's a lawyer doing here?"

"I'll answer your concerns," Lucy said, as if reading Odette's mind. "I am Lucy Flores, as Miguel mentioned. I'm Stella's lawyer for this case."

"Case? What case?" Odette asked, confusion and suspicion evident in her voice.

Lucy stepped forward, her demeanor professional and scrutinizing. She took in Odette's arm linked with Miguel's before giving her a polite but firm smile. "My client is being tortured in this house. I'm here to help her."

"What? That is absolute nonsense!" Odette erupted, yanking Miguel's hand away as she advanced toward Stella. "What is she saying? Nobody is torturing you, Bella!" Her voice grew louder, filled with frustration.

Lucy immediately positioned herself between Odette and Stella, her expression unyielding. "Screaming at my client in my presence is not a good look for you." She cleared her throat and adjusted her glasses, then glanced at Stella, who gave a small, confirming nod. Stella led Lucy toward her room.

Odette's anxiety spiked as she grabbed Lucy's shoulder. "You are not allowed to barge into my house and look through it like this!"

"Actually, ma'am," Lucy began, gently brushing Odette's hand away, "in Stella's best interest, I am indeed allowed to do this." She continued walking toward the room, unfazed by Odette's protests.

"I'll call the police on you!" Odette screamed from behind, her voice a mix of desperation and anger.

"Go ahead," Lucy replied calmly, stepping into the room.

The contrast between the pristine main areas of the house and the state of Stella's room was stark. The room was in disarray, a clear reflection of the mistreatment Stella had endured. Odette's face turned a shade of pale as she bit her lip, her earlier bravado faltering as Miguel's eyes widened in shock and shame at the sight. He had been unaware of the extent of Stella's suffering and felt deeply embarrassed by the state of the room.

Lucy's professional demeanor remained unchanged as she surveyed the room, while Odette's attempts to maintain control over the situation seemed to crumble in the face of undeniable evidence.

Just then, as if pushed by a force of desperation, Odette grabbed Stella and yanked her away from the room. Stella stumbled backward, struggling to regain her balance. As she turned to steady herself, her toe collided sharply with the leg of the nearby tea table. The sudden pain made her stagger once more, and she was on the verge of collapsing when Janed, who had arrived at the front door to pick her up, quickly stepped in.

With impeccable timing, Janed caught Stella by the waist before she could fall. Camila, who was behind Janed, rushed forward to assist. The duo formed a quick, supportive barrier around Stella.

"Ouch. You good, babe?" Janed asked, his voice laced with concern as he looked down at her stubbed toe. Stella nodded, her gaze fixed on the floor. She had always wanted to keep her vulnerabilities hidden from Janed, but the sight of her in this disheveled state was now unavoidable.

Janed carefully helped Stella onto the couch, ensuring she was seated comfortably. The cushiony surface offered some relief, but the pain in her toe was still sharp.

"Hey! You can't just stay here!" Odette's voice cut through the tension, sharp and indignant. She moved to stand between Janed and the couch, her expression one of simmering anger.

Camila stepped forward, her presence assertive and commanding. She placed herself squarely between Odette and her brother, her gaze unwavering. "Listen, Odette," Camila said firmly. "This has gone on for too long. I'm here on behalf of my parents to let you know that we will be Stella's guardians from now on. It won't be long before you and Uncle Miguel face the consequences of your actions."

Odette's eyes widened in shock, her face flushing with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "How dare you come here and make demands in my own house!" she spat, her voice rising in pitch.

Camila's stance remained resolute. "We're not making demands, Odette. We're here to ensure Stella's well-being. This situation has reached a point where it can no longer be ignored. And this. Is not your house."

Miguel, standing a few steps behind Odette, looked increasingly uncomfortable. His earlier surprise had shifted to a deepening sense of guilt and concern as he observed the scene unfolding before him. He exchanged a troubled glance with Odette but chose to remain silent.

Stella, sitting on the couch with Janed by her side, felt a glimmer of relief amidst the turmoil. She knew that Camila and Janed's intervention was a crucial step toward escaping the oppressive environment she had been enduring.

The room, once filled with the tension of confrontation, now buzzed with the promise of change. As Camila's words hung in the air, it became clear that the dynamics of power and control were shifting, and the long-overdue reckoning for Odette and Miguel was imminent.