Maya Miller was becoming more and more tense under Mia's sharp gaze, her face stiffened as she said, "Sister, what's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"
Mia gave her a long, meaningful look, "You look good today, but it's a pity this flower on your head is a bit ugly. Let me remove it for you."
As soon as she said that, without caring whether Maya was happy or not, she reached out and plucked the pink flower from Maya's head, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it hard.
It instantly turned to mush.
Maya's face turned pale, her eyes filled with anger, but she held back and didn't lash out, simply saying softly, "If sister doesn't like it, I won't wear it anymore."
Mia glanced at her disdainfully. This sister had been like this from a young age, always bullied but never dared to make a sound.
What a bore.
She snorted and walked away disdainfully.
Maya watched Mia's departing figure, secretly gritting her teeth, her face dark with gloom.
