The Incubus System

The Incubus System Chapter 658. Step Sister

I stepped into the coffee shop with Tiffany. The strong aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air and enveloped me in its comforting embrace. The sounds of clinking cups and murmured conversations filled the room, creating a lively yet serene atmosphere. A small bell attached to the door chimed merrily as we entered, announcing our arrival to the other patrons.

Tiffany and I approached the counter, where I ordered a hot cappuccino, and she an iced latte. With our drinks in hand, we made our way to an empty table in the corner of the room. I took a slow sip of my cappuccino, letting the warmth spread through me, and I could feel the turmoil within me begin to ease.

Tiffany too took a sip of her latte, closing her eyes as she savored the sweet and creamy flavor. "This is just what I needed," she said, opening her eyes and setting down her cup. "It's nice to have a moment of peace after all the chaos earlier."

“Indeed,” I said. The warmth of the drinks and the relaxed atmosphere of the shop seemed to help calm the turmoil that had been swirling inside of us both.

Tiffany took another sip of her drink and looked at me with a smirk. "Well, you look good for someone who's been missing for three months," she said, her tone playful.

I chuckled and replied, “Thank you for your compliment,” I said in the same joking tone as hers, appreciating the lighthearted moment.

She then grew serious and looked at me, shaking her head. "I never thought we'd meet again under these circumstances, especially not at the police station," she said, her voice filled with a mix of sadness and disbelief. Her smile was gone.

"I know," I agreed, taking a deep breath. "It's been a rough time, but after all that they did… we can’t let them roam around. I can’t let it… I won’t let it…” The glint of anger returned to my eyes, so I quickly looked down at my drink, gazing at the brown liquid inside of it.

Tiffany seemed to sense my unease and changed the subject. "Yeah, well, life can be unpredictable," she quickly said. “So, where is Celia?" she asked, her tone gentle.

My heart ached at the mention of Celia. "She's not coming," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "She doesn't want to see her, not after what happened."

Tiffany reached across the table and touched my hand, a sympathetic look in her eyes. "I see," she said softly. “This must be a big hit for her.”

I nodded, trying to brush off the hurt. "It is..."

Tiffany sipped her iced latte, taking a small, measured sip. Her eyes never left mine as she spoke, her voice laced with a hint of disbelief. "So, what happened?" she asked, her tone questioning. "At the police station, I mean. What did your mom say?"

A sigh escaped my lips, and the memories of what happened flooded back to me in vivid detail. "Long short story," I said, my voice laced with a hint of weariness. "My mother wanted me to take back the report. She was insistent, but I refused and told her that it was the bank that had reported her."

Tiffany's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "And she just let you go like that?" she pressed, her disbelief evident.

A dry smile crossed my lips. "Of course not," I said, my tone heavy with the weight of the situation. "She insisted that I reconsider, but I refused to back down. So I left her, just like that."

"Well, it was similar to my story then," she said, her voice tinged with an edge of irritation. "My dad also requested the same and threw all the crime to your mom. But I refused his request."

A frown appeared on my forehead. "He threw all the crime to my mother?" I said in disbelief. According to my Mind Corruption skill, my mom did everything for my stepdad. So this was quite news for me.

Tiffany nodded before taking another sip of her coffee. "I didn't believe that of course. I know he was lying," she said, her voice holding firm.

I leaned back in my chair, my eyes never leaving Tiffany's face. "I never thought they would betray each other," I mused, a hint of amusement creeping into my tone.

"Well, it suits them," Tiffany replied, her expression hardening as she spoke. It was clear that her trust in her own father had been irrevocably broken.

We both sat in silence for a moment, lost in our own thoughts.

Tiffany broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm still trying to process everything. I don't know how I feel about my dad," she said, her eyes downcast.

I nodded in agreement, the tension in the air almost palpable. "I know what you mean. It's a difficult situation to be in. I feel the same way about my mom," I replied, my voice gentle as I spoke.

Tiffany let out a deep sigh, her slender fingers fidgeting with the handle of her coffee mug. "It's just so hard to process," she said, her voice tinged with frustration. "I can't believe that he would do something like this."

I placed a hand on her arm, offering her a comforting smile. "I know what you mean," I said, my voice calm and reassuring. "But we'll get through this."

As we sipped our coffee, Tiffany and I began to talk about our future plans and how we would handle the situation with our parents. We discussed the looming trial and what we could do to prepare ourselves for the battle ahead.

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, we shared stories of our childhoods and the struggles we had faced, finding comfort in the fact that we were not alone in our struggles.

"We should make a plan to stay in touch and support each other," Tiffany said, her voice filled with determination. "We'll get through this, and come out stronger on the other side."

I nodded in agreement, a sense of gratitude welling up inside me. It was a relief to know that I had someone I could rely on during this time. "I couldn't agree more," I replied, my voice strong and resolute.

We shared ideas on how we could support each other through the trial, from attending court together to lending a listening ear when the stress became too much to bear. In the end, we clinked our coffee cups together in a symbol of solidarity.

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