Rejected Their Broken Luna Chapter 161: Chap-161*A Shoulder To Cry On.*

Cynthia Dion:

"What? She can't. There's no way she would do that. Tell me, what did you do to her?" I began to shout at my father, my heart racing. There was no conceivable way she could have just left. She was still practically a child.

"Cynthia! Calm down," Atticus slammed his plate down and swiftly rose to approach me.

"You want me to calm down when my 15-year-old sister is missing?" I slapped Atticus's hand away, growling in frustration. When I had married Mr. Holt, my sister had been almost 13, and she had recently turned 15. How could a 15-year-old just run away? Where could she have gone?

"You're blaming me for this? She learned all of that from you. Ever since you left two years ago, your sister just wanted to be like you. She started desperately seeking out mates and boyfriends, particularly rich ones, and then one night, she ran off with her lover. Everyone knew she was out of control; she would shout at me and throw things because I didn't want her boyfriend around," my father shouted back at me, his voice filled with disgust and accusations. He was laying the responsibility for my sister's departure squarely on my shoulders.

"Since when did you start caring about the rich men who came around?" I yelled, as Atticus gently gripped my arm to pull me away from my father.

"Her mate wasn't my choice either. He was living with his parents. Do you think he'd be capable of taking care of her? A 15-year-old boy can't look after her," my father responded, his tone confrontational. I understood why my father had reservations about her mate.

"Huh! So he couldn't take care of you," I nodded, managing a feeble smile. "Tell me who he is; I want to meet her," I insisted, but the expression on his face unnerved me.

He had no idea who this guy was, and he didn't appear interested in meeting him once he discovered that her mate was also 15, far from being an independent man.

"You've ruined everything; you're the reason she ran away," I sobbed, coming to terms with how alone she must feel. But I wouldn't shoulder all the blame myself. All this time, Mr. Holt had kept me paralyzed with fear about selling my sister, while she had already left.

What if her mate turned out to be just like Atticus? Then what? Who would protect her?

"I'm going to get some fresh air," my father stated, turning away and leaving the house, unable to offer any further words.

"Cynthia, I will look for her, okay? You just need to relax," Atticus attempting to console me in that moment made me want to jab a hole through my ears.

He was the one offering to help me?

"You'll find her? You!" I jabbed my finger into his chest, singling him out. "Do you have any idea how she might be living if her mate is anything like you?" Tears streamed down my face at the mere recollection of how dreadful my mates had been to me.

"I'm not a bad person," Atticus defended himself, but that's when I yearned to explain precisely what he was.

"You're nothing but a monster!" I screamed at him, retreating and falling to my knees, overcome with tears. He stood there in shock, and when he attempted to approach me, I extended my palm to halt him.

"What's happening here?" A familiar voice alerted me to someone's arrival. It was Jack, the neighbor who used to pester me relentlessly.

"Cynthia!" He noticed me and hurried over to kneel beside me. "Are you okay?" he asked, genuine concern etched on his face.

"Flora!" I uttered her name, and he nodded. He was aware of her disappearance. So I thought I might be able to ask more questions if possible.

"I understand, please just calm down first," he consoled me, wrapping his arm around me. For some reason, I didn't push his hand away, not because I was desperate for someone's affection, but because I noticed the jealous expression on Atticus's face when Jack embraced me. It made me hesitate to reject Jack's comfort.

This was the same look I had given Atticus whenever he cheated on me or chose others over me, but now that look was on his face.

Atticus stood there, watching us as I cried on Jack's shoulder. After a few minutes, I pulled away from Jack, feeling somewhat calmer. It was heart-wrenching to think that my younger sister had chosen to leave, likely because she believed her older sister had abandoned her, and she needed to find a mate for her own safety.

"Allow me to assist you," Jack spoke with a tone very unlike his usual cocky self, showing a great deal of respect. He took my hand and helped me to my feet, guiding me to sit on the couch.

"I'll fetch you some fresh juice," he declared before hurrying away, leaving me with Atticus, who hadn't budged throughout this entire interaction.

"Can you tell him not to be too touchy with you?" The first thing Atticus requested was for me to instruct the only person who was offering me help to keep his distance.

"Why?" I reclined my head, still feeling quite stressed due to my sister's disappearance. She was gone, and my father didn't even seem concerned about her. Wait! Was that the reason Mr. Holt never brought me here? Because he knew he had lost his last weapon against me?

"Because I recall he used to harass you. How can you act so casual around him now?" It was one of the most amusing things Atticus had said in a while.

"Is that so?" I raised an eyebrow at him, seeking further clarification.

"Yeah! I remember it, how can you forget?" he pressed, his frustration apparent.

"Considering I've been residing under the same roof as you, you can probably deduce that I can't do much about my tormentors," I responded, closing my eyes in an attempt to find some relief, as my headache had begun to intensify.