At Cynthia's—Cynthia was home alone for the first time since her life changed forever. She was scared but didn't want to show it. As Frida entered, she said, “Cynthia.” “Frida, I know it's you.” “How? I can smell your perfume.” “Oh, how are you doing? Are you alone?” “I may be blind, but I'm not a child. I can take care of myself.” “Yes, you can. I just came to check on you. I know you are still the same sister I have been jealous of.” “Yes, I am. This is just one little bump, but I'm still the same ruthless businesswoman.” “Yes, you are. Do you remember when we had a good relationship when we were little? You always looked out for me.” “Yes, I did. I'm sorry about Alistair.” “Thank you. I did love him. I just wish he was still here.” “Alistair loved you too,” Cynthia said as Victoria came in, seeing her sisters being kind to each other, hoping it would stay that way.
“Victoria, why are you here? What about Callie?” Cynthia asked. “She's still in a coma, but I want to check on my sister. I'm glad you both are here; I need you both.” “We do need each other,” Victoria said. “Yes, we do. A man should never come between us,” Victoria added.
“No,” Frida said. “How are you doing, Frida? Victoria” asked. “Alright. I'm helping Kitty plan the funeral. She loved Alistair so much.” “Yes, he did,” Cynthia said. “I wish I had that kind of relationship with our father,” Frida said. “Me too,” Victoria agreed. Cynthia always hate that her relationship with her father came between her sisters.
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