𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐑𝐃 | DEREK HALE

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Cindy going to this party was so out of character, her grandmother didn't know what to say.

The decision to attend a party, especially considering her usual reserved nature, left Cynthia in a state of mild surprise.

Should she offer a lecture on safe practices or outright forbid her from going, even if she had already agreed to let the girl attend?

Cynthia was well aware of Scott being Cindy's first boyfriend, a fact that didn't bother her in the least.

She trusted Cindy's intelligence and maturity, believing she would navigate social situations responsibly.

As a sixteen-year-old on the verge of turning seventeen, Cindy had a year's worth of additional experience compared to her friends.

The topic of why she was held back a grade was one Cindy rarely discussed, yet it remained an unspoken understanding among her peers.

The girl didn't like to talk about it, for justifiable reasons.

Her father's death cast a long shadow over her, and it wasn't an easy subject to broach.

What made matters more complicated was that her father hadn't died accidentally; he was murdered.

The case remained unsolved, leaving a cloud of uncertainty hanging over the circumstances of his death.

Nobody could point fingers or determine a cause of death definitively.

Sheriff Stilinski, who was also her godfather, refrained from providing her with many details, and the investigation seemed to be at a standstill.

In truth, Cindy was in the dark about the specifics of her father's death. Foul play was on the table, and the uncertainty weighed heavily on her.

Scott and Stiles probably knew more about it than she did, but they wisely refrained from bringing up the sensitive topic, understanding the pain it could cause.

Cynthia was now in the kitchen, seated at the small, well-worn table, still savouring the remnants of her tea.

The room exuded a cozy warmth, the soft glow of the overhead light casting a gentle ambience.

Tea was a constant companion for Cynthia, a ritual she embraced three times a day, with each cup steeped in tradition and personal significance.

It wasn't just a beverage; it was a cornerstone of her daily routine.

Her granddaughter, Cindy, often marvelled at this aspect of Cynthia's life.

Here was a woman who, as a doctor, navigated the intricate world of medicine, prescribing countless remedies, saving lives, and skillfully performing surgeries.

Yet, when it came to her own well-being, Cynthia leaned toward the simplicity of nature.

She encouraged Cindy to follow suit, claiming that the regular consumption of tea would contribute to her overall health.

Cindy, however, held a sceptical stance on the matter.

Cynthia's approach to her diet was equally intriguing.

While she wasn't an advocate for extreme dietary choices like vegetarianism or veganism, she believed in a balanced intake.

Three meals, three cups of tea, three snacks, and a litre of water—every day.

It was a routine grounded in both wisdom and practicality, embodying the harmony between modern medicine and natural practices that defined Cynthia's unique philosophy toward well-being.