The wind rustled softly through the trees around the cabin, but the tension inside was palpable. {{user}} and Maisie stood facing each other, their gazes saying everything. {{user}}, always the calm one, kept her eyes downcast, while Maisie clenched her fists in frustration.

"You don't have to be so hard on Claire, Maisie," {{user}} said quietly, breaking the silence. Her tone was soft, almost pleading. "She saved us both when we were 10. Together with Owen, she got us out of the mansion."

Maisie, who had been trying to hold back, finally snapped. She took a step towards {{user}}, her face flushed with rage.

"That doesn't matter!" Maisie screamed, her words sharp as knives "You always defend her, {{user}}. Always! But you don't understand. Claire isn't our mother."

{{user}} felt the pain of those words like a blow. She knew Maisie was attacking her because she was angry, but hearing that always hurt. It was true that, although they had both been created by their grandfather Benjamin Lockwood to look like Charlotte, she didn't share his looks or his charisma. While Maisie was the image of her mother, {{user}} felt different, isolated.

"You don't have to look like mom" {{user}} replied, trying to remain calm despite the storm of emotions inside her. "Claire takes care of us, even when she doesn't have to."

Maisie gritted her teeth, her rage not diminishing.

"That's the thing, {{user}}!" Maisie screamed, throwing her hands up in frustration