It is indeed Dad's fault. He doesn't even regard us that much. He only comes home when it is time to use us—and after that, he disappears again.
I'm pretty sure Mum is tired of everything. It wouldn't be a surprise if he has another family somewhere. And frankly, Mum doesn't even look like she cares anymore.
We reach home, and everyone retires to bed, exhausted from the journey.
I step into the bathtub and sink into the warm bubbles, feeling my stress melt away like a hot knife through butter.
"What a jackass," I sigh.
I tilt my head slightly, eyes drifting to the bathroom door.
It's slightly open.
I stare at it.
Then—
a shadow moves.
I sit up instantly, my heart skipping.
Do I check… or stay here?
If it's an assassin, I'm done for. I'd rather be found in my bed—perfectly put together—than like some horror movie cliché on the bathroom floor.
I reach for my towel and pull it toward me. Some of it gets soaked, but I don't care.
I grab a pair of scissors from the cabinet.
Then I step out of the bathroom.
The room is dark.
Cold.
The window rattles violently as the wind pushes against it. Moonlight spills faintly into the room.
I scan everything, gripping the scissors tightly.
Nothing seems out of place.
And that bothers me.
Whoever entered didn't break in. No signs. No forced entry.
I sigh.
"I need to tell Dad," I mutter.
I turn toward my dressing table—and freeze.
A pristine white paper sits neatly on top.
My pulse spikes.
I rush to it, grab it, crush it in my fist, and throw it away.
This again.
Another message. Another warning.
Another game.
I storm back to the window and shove it open.
"Fuck you… asshole!" I shout into the night, raising both middle fingers.
I step back, running a hand through my curls.
This man is driving me insane.
I walk to the mirror and stare at my reflection—wet hair, tired eyes, soaked towel.
"This guy is practically turning me insane," I murmur.
I open my wardrobe and pull out a satin nightgown.
If there is one thing I've learned, it's to stop sleeping half-naked when a pervert keeps breaking into my room.
I change quickly, apply some ointment, and lie on my bed.
Memories of the day begin to flood my mind.
I curl into myself, pulling my knees close as tears begin to gather.
Soon, I drift off.
I wake up with a heavy yawn, my body sore and sluggish.
I sit up slowly.
"Ugh…"
I drag myself to the bathroom, take a quick bath, and get dressed for school.
Perfume. Routine. Control.
I step out of my room and head downstairs.
The kitchen is already busy with maids moving around.
I grab a bottle of water and drink it quickly, then pick up a few pancakes.
As I head toward the door, I hear Mum and Dad arguing again.
I roll my eyes.
"Annoying."
I walk toward my car—and stop abruptly.
My breath catches.
"Uhn uhnnn" I mutter
I am not seeing a snake. Not a bear. Not a dead body.
But what I am seeing makes my blood boil.
Carved into my car—in blood-red—is a single initial.
"A."
My fists clench.
Someone is mocking me.
I run my fingers over the engraving on my Black Audi R8.
This is not random.
This is deliberate.
And it is him.
I get into the driver's seat without wasting time.
I am already late.
As I drive, something catches my eye on the side.
A blue handkerchief.
I frown and reach for it while still steering.
The same initial is stitched into it.
"A."
I pause.
Then I bring it closer.
And I smell it.
That scent.
Spicy. Distinct. Familiar.
My breath hitches.
It's him.
At school, I walk into the lecture hall calmly, pretending nothing is wrong.
Lora waves at me and gestures for me to sit beside her.
I sit.
"Babeee… I've been trying to reach you since yesterday," she whispers.
"I was busy," I murmur. "With my parents… ahem."
She leans closer, smirking.
Her gaze shifts across the room.
"Your new love interest?"
I smirk. "You mean your talking stage?"
She returns.
"I hear his name is Olrey."
I glance at the boy she pointed at.
Then I look around the room.
"Chen isn't here" She murmurs.
"What makes you think I'm looking for Chen?" I add quickly.
She raises a brow.
"Of course you're not."
I ignore her.
My eyes move across the room—and lock with Olrey's.
For a brief moment, we stare.
Then I look away.
"What's with all these faces?" I ask.
"They aren't new students," Lora whispers. "They were invited."
I sigh, irritation creeping in for no clear reason.
A headache begins to build.
"Sarima… you're burning!" Lora suddenly says.
She places her hand on my forehead.
"I'm fine," I mutter.
"You need the sick bay. Like right now!"
She stands up immediately.
"Lora—"
"We're leaving," she cuts in, already packing her things.
We slip out through the back.
I sit in the car as Lora drives out of the parking lot.
My body feels weak… heavy.
Then—
a figure approaches.
Chen.
"I thought you wouldn't come today," Lora says.
"I was on my way," he replies. "What's wrong?"
"She caught a fever," Lora answers quickly.
Chen moves closer.
He crouches in front of me.
Our eyes meet.
Everything stills.
He places his hand on my forehead.
Clicks his tongue.
Disapproval.
Of course.
The type that makes me want to be buried in the earth.
"Finding love in my eyes?" I tease weakly.
A soft sigh leaves his lips.
He gestures for Lora to drive off, and she does.
"Girl I don't even know what's making your face look..." she moves her hands in circles around my face as she focuses on driving "this way.....is it the fever or Chen?.
"You always look like you're going through withdrawal whenever you see him," Lora finalizes as she drives.
"You are so rude," I mutter.
She laughs.
Then her tone shifts.
"By the way… when did you have a name starting with A?"
"I don't," I reply.
She glances at me.
"Then whose initial is on your car?"