Cynthia, who typically enjoys conversing and sharing her thoughts, had been meticulously preparing tea for everyone and barely spoke a word. She couldn't help but glance at Angie. and the more she looked, the more envy bubbled within her.
As she observed Angie's appearance, skin, demeanor, and her face radiant with youthful collagen, Cynthia felt like the ugly duckling in comparison, so much so that she even felt embarrassed to look up at one point.
While she was making tea, she noticed her hands had begun to show signs of aging. Despite her diligent skincare routine, the passage of time had left its mark. Even though she sheltered her index finger from the harshness of daily life, the hands of Cynthia, nearing fifty, still bore evident dryness and wrinkles.
When Angie picked up her cup, Cynthia felt an even stronger sense of shame regarding her own aging hands.
Angie was puzzled, remembering that Cynthia had always been exceptionally assertive and self-centered in her past. She had a reputation as one of Eastcliff‘s most stingy women, yet here she was, quietly serving tea and behaving strangely.
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