She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 1017

"Is that... is that Helena?" Swain's mother suddenly dropped her fork and squinted at the TV screen, as if trying to comprehend an alien invasion. "The one you used to date?"

Swain's fork hovered in the air for several agonizing seconds before he forced out a dry, strained response. "Yes."

"Why is she on TV?" His mother's voice was laced with genuine bewilderment. In her narrow worldview, people only got on TV if they committed a crime or became insanely famous. Neither option made sense for the girl she knew. "Did she... win some kind of award?"

Swain stared at the glowing screen, watching the woman the entire world was currently obsessed with. "The Golden Globe," he mumbled, his lips barely moving. "Best Original Score."

"The Golden what?" his father frowned. He knew nothing about the entertainment industry; the Oscars, the Golden Globes—it all sounded like foreign nonsense to him. "Sounds fancy. Is it a big deal?"

Swain fell silent for a long moment. When he finally looked up, his eyes were clouded with a deeply complex mix of awe and regret. "It's one of the highest, most authoritative honors in the global film and music industry."

A heavy silence suffocated the dining room.

His mother recovered first.

She glanced at the close-up of Helena's triumphant speech, then looked at her son's devastated expression. The gears in her head spun rapidly, desperately trying to rebalance the scales to favor her own narrative.

"Well, she's clearly talented," she clicked her tongue, offering a sliver of genuine praise before her defensive instincts kicked in. "It's just a shame about her family. It doesn't matter how successful she gets—with a disastrous family like hers dragging her down, she'll always be a mess. Right?"

She nudged her husband with her elbow. He instantly caught on.

"Exactly! Having talent means nothing if your roots are rotten. A tree that tall is bound to crash. Molly is vastly superior. She comes from a clean, respectable home. That's the kind of woman you build a life with."

His mother nodded frantically, turning a beaming smile back to Molly. "Don't you mind us, sweetie. I'm just making conversation. That's all in the past, it has nothing to do with us. As long as you and Swain are happy, that's all that matters."

Molly held her bowl, keeping a perfect, polite smile plastered on her face, though the warmth didn't reach her eyes.

She looked down, her fork aimlessly pushing food around. "I know, I'm not overthinking it."

But her knuckles were stark white from gripping the silverware so tightly.

Swain didn't notice Molly's distress. His eyes were glued to the TV. The broadcast had already moved on to the next winner, but Helena's radiant face was playing on an endless loop in his mind.

A bitter, acidic taste washed over his tongue.

"An award like that," Swain heard his own voice speak up, pushed by some masochistic urge to finish the thought. "Her industry quotes will now start at a million. Minimum."

His mother's smile completely froze.

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