Who is the Real Daughter

I flipped through the pages of the book I'm currently reading. I fixed my glasses a little because they were slightly distorted, but my vision was still a little fuzzy, so I just took them off and wiped them softly till they were clear.

When my visions started to improve, I grinned and resumed my reading.

"Pene, are you going home yet? It's getting dark."

When I looked around the library, it appeared that I was the only one around. I then peered out the window and noticed that the darkness had only just begun to nibble away at the formerly brilliant clouds.

"Can I perhaps borrow this book?" " I rose from my seat and approached Mrs. Javier, who, despite the stern expression on her face, had a pleasant manner.

"Of course. Just write your name and the title of the book you want to borrow here," she added before handing me a logbook with the names of the pupils who also borrowed the textbook.

I had chosen to leave after writing my name, but I hadn't been able to leave when I noticed a red book in the corner of the library. I would have loved to grab it just in case someone had just left it and maybe come back to look for it. So, in the end, I just left the library.

Harbor University closes at exactly six o'clock, however, it is a college department to be considered. It's a private school, but it's not as huge as other private colleges, and it's not as small either, it's just fine.

I went through the calm corridors till I was finally out of university. I don't need to ride a tricycle or any other vehicle because the apartment I'm living in is just a short walk away.

I yawned because, even though it was still early, I was beginning to feel drowsy.

Before I go over to the kitchen, I place my bag on a single sofa. I took a peek at the pitcher I had left on the table this morning because I was rushing to get to school. I sighed before I put it away.

I just prepared noodles that night since I was out of supplies. I also got up early the next day because my first lesson started at seven o'clock, but when I arrived, there was no one in the room.

"Penelope!"

I turned to my left as I heard someone yell out my name. Cario, one of my block mates, was racing in my direction when I noticed him. As I met his pleasant gaze, I furrowed my brow.

"We don't have a class today because the professors have a last-minute meeting," he explained.

I hastily avoided looking at him because he was staring at me. I've known Cario since high school, and there isn't a week that goes by that he doesn't tell me how he feels. When it comes to expressing his emotions, he is very vocal. Even though I told him he couldn't flirt with me, he wouldn't quit taunting me. Not that I don't like him; Cario is a good man, and many pretty girls wish to be noticed by someone like him.

People always told me that I'm lucky since I'm the one he wanted to court; after all, why would he choose someone like me out of all the girls?

Even if that's the case, I'm looking for something in a man that I can't find in him. That's it; I have no idea what else to say.

"I'll just go to the library," I muttered, turning away from him, but he abruptly joined me on the walk.

"I'll accompany you," he said and got ahead of me. "I'm heading to the cafeteria, and we'll be passing by the library, so I'll escort you," he replied, and I couldn't complain any longer.

He follows through on his words. He simply escorted me and did not attempt to enter the library because he departed immediately after.

I contacted Mrs. Javier, who was frantically arranging a few paperwork. Before I entered the library, I just scribbled my name in the logbook. Because there are no classes, there are a few pupils present.

I reached for my journal after sitting on the side table. I prefer it here at the library because it's quiet, and it's one of the few places where I can think clearly. I come here to read and make up stories when I don't have work. I suppose it's a hobby.

I've written and completed a few novels, some of which were shared on social media; there haven't been many reads, but my accomplishment is that I can write a novel even if no one reads it.