THE FIVE OF US

Chapter 22: Small Worlds and Velvet Ropes

Connections

By Saturday morning, the relief from Friday’s bursar approval had settled into a quiet, cozy momentum across Floor 4.

With the tuition crisis temporarily resolved through the petition, Scarlett spent the morning helping Chloe organize her hair styling supplies on her desk. The sharp tension between them was gone, replaced by an easy, comfortable rhythm.

Across the hall, Vivian’s door was wide open. She stood near her wardrobe, wearing a tailored navy blazer, packing a small weekend bag.

"Going home for the weekend, Vivian?" Ava asked, leaning against her own doorway with a cup of black coffee.

"Just for two days," Vivian replied smoothly, neatly folding a silk blouse. "My father is hosting his annual autumn gala at the estate. He expects me to attend and smile for his board members." She paused, letting out a small, tired breath. "The only good part about going back is seeing Mrs. Gable. She’s been the head housekeeper at our estate since I was eight. She’s practically the only person in that house who actually asks how my day was."

Scarlett, who had been hand-sorting Chloe's hair clips, froze instantly. The plastic clip in her hand slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the desk.

She slowly turned around, her face losing all its color. "Wait... what did you just say her name was?"

Vivian looked up, mildly surprised by the sudden shift in Scarlett’s tone. "Mrs. Gable. Martha Gable. Why?"

Scarlett’s mouth opened, but no sound came out for a second. She swallowed hard, her hand trembling slightly as she leaned against the desk for support. "Short? Grey hair, always keeps a silver pocket watch in her apron, talks about her homemade peach preserve?"

Vivian’s dark brows furrowed, her eyes sharpening with sudden realization. "Yes. How could you possibly know Martha's pocket watch?"

Chloe, Ava, and Emily all stopped what they were doing, their eyes bouncing between Vivian's cool, bewildered expression and Scarlett's utter shock.

"That's... that's Aunt Martha," Scarlett whispered, a hysterical, disbelieving laugh escaping her lips as she buried her face in her hands. "My Aunt Martha. The one who raised me. The one who borrowed the hatchback to bring me to campus."

The room went dead silent.

Ava nearly choked on her coffee, her jaw dropping. Chloe dropped her hairbrush, while Emily let out a soft gasp.

Vivian stood frozen beside her leather luggage, her usual unshakeable posture completely breaking for a brief moment. She looked at Scarlett—the girl who had arrived on campus wearing knockoff designer clothes and boasting about private drivers—and the pieces instantly clicked into place.

"Your aunt," Vivian said quietly, the shock in her voice melting into something surprisingly tender, "is the woman who raised me after my mother died."

Scarlett looked up, her green eyes wide and glossy. "It really is a small world, isn't it?"

Vivian closed her bag, walked across the hallway, and stood in front of Scarlett. For the first time since they had met, Vivian offered Scarlett a genuine, warm smile—one stripped of all high-society distance.

"Tell Martha I'll see her in two hours," Vivian said softly. "And don't worry, Scarlett. Your secret is completely safe with me."

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