Upon seeing Sheila's sudden change of attitude, Marlinie and Bertha glanced at each other, then back at Sheila.
With a sycophantic smile on her face, Sheila encouraged them to come in. "Come in, come in. The sun is blazing outside; don't just stand there."
Marlinie nodded. "When is your father expected to be home?"
Sheila chuckled. "He'll be back soon, very soon! Come in and sit down. I'll make some tea for you. Just wait a bit; my father will be home any minute."
Marlinie led Bertha and the young Lea into the Mendoza family’s cozy suburban home.
Guests naturally drifted towards the living room.
But Sheila blocked their path. Her face beamed as she said, "Ladies, our living room couch is currently out of commission. I'm afraid it can't be used at the moment. Please follow me upstairs to the guest room. It's much cooler up there."
Having received such a kind invitation, Marlinie and Bertha could hardly refuse, so they followed Sheila upstairs.
Lea, trailing behind her mother and Marlinie, was on high alert; something seemed off.
Sheila ushered Marlinie and Bertha into the attic room, the same room Ellinor had once occupied.
"Ladies, please make yourselves comfortable here. I'll go and prepare some refreshments for you." Sheila’s smile was both polite and amiable.
Although Marlinie found it somewhat peculiar that they were being accommodated in such a small, confined space, she merely thanked Sheila and didn't comment further.
Upon their hostess' departure, Lea grumbled, "Mom, Ms. Marlinie, this doesn't seem like a guest room. It’s small and cramped. Who would invite guests into such a place?"
Bertha patted her daughter's head. "We shouldn't speak ill of others' hospitality, dear. If they ask us to wait here, we wait."
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