At that moment, Serena suddenly laughed.
She gracefully set down her utensils. Her every move was devoid of any hint of a country girl; she was so noble and composed, it was as if she was born for this kind of environment.
She leaned back lazily in her chair, raised a slender, porcelain-pale hand and began to clap slowly.
"Delusional, indeed," Serena scoffed. "You're finally realizing that you've spent twenty years living a life that wasn't yours."
Everything Isabella possessed now, wasn't that the result of wishful thinking?
What right did she have to play the victim?
Serena knew her mother was soft-hearted and sentimental.
After all, this was the girl she had raised as her own daughter, doting on her for twenty years.
Moreover, Isabella was a master of disguise, never showing any trace of jealousy in front of their mother.
Her mother probably still believed that the adopted daughter she raised was pure, kind, gentle, and genuinely happy to finally have a sister.
Isabella's earlier line—"Mom has always doted on me, preparing everything for me so thoughtfully."
And that other one—"It was my fault for being delusional."
She was playing the victim card perfectly.
Wasn't she just trying to stir up their mother's guilt?
Well, Serena decided, she would cut off Isabella's escape route of playing the victim, leaving her nowhere to go.
Sure enough.
As Serena's words fell.
Catherine's heart ached. She grabbed Serena's hand and looked at Isabella with a cold expression. "Isabella, wrong is wrong. If Agnes doesn't know the rules, it's because you haven't managed her properly!"
Why should Serena have to forgive her just because she apologized? What about the twenty years of life that were stolen from Serena?

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