Hope had come down just in time for her parents' car to pull up on the driveway. She sat stiffly in the couch, though she appeared to be relaxed.
Her coffee brown eyes were blankly staring at the maroon carpet below her. Her blond hair was back in a lightly curled low side pony that set itself on her shoulder. At least it was a ponytail. Her face was lightly powdered with foundation. Her eyes were framed with ebony liner, making her look more mature than she was, not that she wanted to. A sleeveless pressed cream silk gazar dress was worn over a white short sleeve, also pressed and made of silk gazar. Her mother would much rather have her wear a dress with an illusion short sleeve neckline, but Hope just didn't like those.
Leo was sent to hospital and given some medicine. He's fine now. Still in the hospital, but fine. The only problem now was the financial needs. The antibody was super expensive and needed immediate shipment from Japan, and a doctor had to cut his day off short because he was the only one capable of such a treatment on both human and mutant. The doctor was kind and generous. The hospital, on the other hand, wasn't as nice. They put in an extra charge into the already expensive bill just because the patient was a mutant. The payment didn't reach millions, nor did it reach hundred thousands. Hope could pay it with less than a week's allowance, but she'd have to get her hands on some check paper. She could always just go out and buy some, which she would. Tomorrow. She couldn't have done it today even if she wanted to. Right now, she had to go on a dinner with her parents.
Don't get her wrong, she hated her parents' ways. Sure, her mom was more passive and supportive than her dad, but that's the only thing that set their ways apart. And that's only the delivery. Yet even though they show a great distaste for mutants, they still showed great hospitality to their human relations, family or not, plus they were her parents. So...
The door clicked open as her parents came in, presentable and all. They were talking on their phones, for some reason. Business probably. Always business, yet when they went out for dinner, phones down and family time. That's one thing she loved about her parents.
Her dad went straight to the bedroom he shared with his wife to fix himself up.
Her mom, on the other hand, put down her phone and smiled warmly at Hope. Hope looked up and smiled back. That smile somehow always drew attention to itself. Like Hope's, except it was warm. Anyone who received a smile from her mom would feel grateful that the world had such a nice person. Anyone who received Hope's smile felt the same thing, except when the smile wasn't directed to you, you'd feel negativity: disappointment, jealousy, anger, self-doubt. That's the difference of her smile and her mom's.
"Hope."
"Yes, mom?" she replied, sitting straighter if it was even possible.
"Mind telling me why you're so miserable, dear?"
Hope's eyes widened, before they darkened and looked down on the floor, fiddling with her sparkly white flats.
"I...don't wanna talk about it," she replied.
Her mom nodded, "I understand." She turned her heel and headed to the bedrooms, leaving Hope alone with her thoughts.
As Mrs Houstone got to the top of the stairs, her husband came out, new pressed suit and all. She walked up to him and they both stared down at their daughter.
"Should we tell her?" Mrs Houstone asked.
Her husband sighed. "She looks more miserable than ever."
She glanced at him in defeat. She then turned and walked into her room, but before she could close the door, she smiled as her husband whispered his reply.
"I'll get the turtle."
