Elara sneered with a smug, gloating expression. "Jasmine is a doctoral candidate. What is she? Just a college grad? College degrees are a dime a dozen these days. Compared to Jasmine, she's practically illiterate."
Thomas sucked in a breath, about to point out the obvious, but Elara anticipated him and cut him off. "Were you going to say I'm only a college student, too? I'm obviously going abroad for my master's. I'm going to get a prestigious degree just like Jasmine. How can Lyra even compare to me? I'm a future post-doc."
Valerie, watching her daughter's sharp-tongued defense, laughed proudly. "That's my ambitious girl."
Amused by his daughter's rare burst of motivation, Thomas chuckled. "You said it. I'll hold you to it."
Lyra might have decent looks and a solid family background, but she lacked real substance. At least her cautionary tale was inspiring Elara, giving the girl a much-needed sense of urgency about her own future.
Suddenly, Thomas felt that Lyra's existence wasn't entirely useless.
The family of three returned to their lively dinner, refusing to let an irrelevant outsider ruin their mood, and quickly pushed Lyra from their minds.
Meanwhile, after finishing her meal, Lyra walked out without crossing paths with the Townsends again.
Even if she had, she wouldn't have known who they were.
Lyra and Quentin's team headed back to the office to finalize some paperwork.
Settling back into her own office, Lyra spent some time firing off emails to her team in California.
By the time she clocked out and prepared to head home, she realized the seasons had changed, and she hadn't bought any new clothes due to her grueling schedule. She called Maddie, hoping for a shopping partner, but unfortunately, Maddie was out of town on a trip.
Left to her own devices, she decided to hit the mall alone.
Ever since Victoria and Tabitha had started communicating, their mutual agreement to socialize had rapidly evolved into joint shopping excursions. From a distance, they spotted Lyra walking out of a high-end designer boutique, her arms laden with shopping bags...
Rowan met her gaze, his dark eyes unreadable. "Yes. She is incredibly independent."
After speaking, he didn't look back at the television. His intense gaze remained locked on his mother, as if daring her to elaborate.
Victoria just offered a tight smile. "As long as you're happy, that's what matters."
She left it at that, not uttering another word on the subject.
In Victoria's eyes, the Ford family's lack of wealth was utterly distasteful. To her, "working part-time jobs for school" was just a polite way of saying they were too poor to afford a proper education.
Without warning, her mind flashed to another girl who had also "worked part-time jobs for school"—a girl who had driven a vicious wedge between two brothers who had never once fought before.
At the memory, a fierce, ugly frown marred Victoria's elegant features.

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