Liv gave a small, faint smile, not arrogant, but painfully polite. A smile born from discomfort, from embarrassment, from the cold water still soaking her gown.
Leon dragged a hand down his face, exasperated and furious.
"Briella…" he said, voice low and sharp."You just threw water at my little sister."
Briella's sobs grew louder and more uncontrollable, her voice breaking and raw, as if the weight of shame and guilt pressing on her chest had finally exploded. Her shoulders shook violently, and her face flushed a deep crimson. Every patron in the café turned to watch, unsure whether to feel sympathy, amusement, or awe at the sudden, chaotic scene unfolding before them.
Liv, who had only wanted to sit peacefully and enjoy her beloved meatball pastries, closed her eyes for a moment and massaged her temple. Her voice, calm yet firm, cut through the tension:
"Please… be quiet and sit down," she said. "I just want to eat in peace. Don't ruin my meal with such embarrassing crying."
