The cutest couple
Amara was seriously contemplating the merits of faking her own death. Maybe if she just slipped out of the room quietly, found some obscure corner of the mansion to collapse in, her parents and Elara would forget about her and go on with their lives. Wishful thinking, really, because knowing her luck, the system would start giving her helpful tips on how to properly execute a fake demise. She didn't trust it not to sabotage her mid-plan just for laughs.
[You're assuming I wouldn't take over and make you mess up even faster.]
You'd probably print out an obituary just to make me look bad, Amara shot back mentally. The headache that had receded during breakfast was now coming back full force, aided by the chaotic energy that was her mother, Helena, and Elara sitting too comfortably together.