“Silence!” Julian interrupted sharply. “You will never touch my son like this again.”
Then something extraordinary happened. Oliver gritted his teeth, grasped the edge of the sofa, and pushed himself upright. Trembling yet determined, he shouted, “Stop it, Father! Stop being cruel to her! She is my friend!”
Julian could hardly believe his eyes. His usually timid son had spoken with fire and defiance.
“She is the only one who treats me like I am not fragile,” Oliver said, voice cracking. “Everyone else looks at me and only sees what I cannot do. Mara sees who I am!”
Julian’s chest tightened. Had he truly been blind to his son’s loneliness, seeing only his limitations instead of his heart?
Mara stepped forward, still trembling but resolute. “He is not broken, sir,” she said softly. “He just needs someone to believe in him. I believe in him.”
Before Julian could reply, Mara’s mother Elena appeared at the doorway, flour dusting her apron. Her eyes widened at the scene. “Sir, please forgive her,” she pleaded. “She will not trouble Master Oliver again.”
“No!” Oliver cried, tears streaming down his face. “If Mara has to go, I will leave too. I do not care about this house or your fortune. I just want a friend!”
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