Chapter 162: A Cold Smirk Played on Tessa Carver's Lips

A cold smirk played on Tessa Carver's lips.

Six years without touching a textbook, and now aiming for grad school?

She couldn't wait to see Clara Whitmore's humiliation when the results came out.

Diane Harrow feigned concern. "Now that Tessa mentioned it, I'm curious about Clara's scores too."

Claire Porter chimed in with false sympathy. "Why not check? It's fine if she failed—she's been out of practice for so long."

Helen Whitmore frowned, ready to decline.

But Clara nodded calmly. "Sure."

The group gathered around the computer.

Daniel Whitmore's fingers trembled as he entered the exam ID.

The living room held its breath during those agonizing seconds of loading.

"Scores are out!"

Total: 412.

Denise Carver whispered, "Is 400-something good?"

Tessa's face drained of color.

Diane suppressed her shock. "The GRE max is 500. This score would place Clara in the top three, if not first."

Denise gasped. "She actually got into Ashford University?!"

Claire cut in sharply. "There's still the interview."

Diane smiled knowingly. "The written exam counts for 70%. It's practically a done deal. Congratulations, Daniel."

Daniel's eyes glistened.

Six years ago, his daughter had abandoned her education for a man.

Now she'd returned with a house by the lake and an acceptance letter.

Everything was finally falling into place.

"Thank you, Diane."

Diane raised her voice pointedly. "Clara will be the most educated in our family now."

Tessa's nails dug into her palms.

Denise's face turned ashen.

Claire sneered. "Don't celebrate until the official letter arrives."

The dinner continued with tension thick enough to cut.

Guests left hastily, abandoning even perfunctory pleasantries.

* * *

January 20th—Helen's birthday.

After days of rain, the clouds finally parted.

Tender green shoots peeked through the garden soil.

Clara moved about the kitchen, apron tied neatly.

She remembered her mother's distaste for sweets.

A steaming bowl of hand-pulled longevity noodles sat ready.

Her gift was a rare first-edition book set.

She'd scoured global websites for weeks.

It had crossed oceans to reach them after fifteen days.