Chapter 8
“She wants to do it with Asher.” Chloe studied Aria’s expression
before hastily adding, “Don’t worry. It’s just for show. It won’t
affect your engagement.”
Even though she’d expected this, the words still pierced her
heart.
This was her mother.
Aria lifted her gaze, her voice flat. “If you think it’s appropriate,
then go ahead. I don’t mind.”
What good would objecting do?
In her previous life, she’d screamed, cried, begged–only to be met
with icy disdain. Nothing ever changed.
Sometimes, she wanted to ask, ‘If it were me with cancer, would
you treat me the same way?‘ But she swallowed the question.
In her previous life, when Henry had finally revealed the truth,
the Whitmores hadn’t rushed to comfort her.
They’d been relieved, relieved it wasn’t Tessa.
Chapter 8
If they couldn’t care then, why would they now?
Chloe exhaled in visible relief, a smile breaking across her face.
She’d braced for Aria’s hysterics.
Instead, she’d gotten compliance.
But the ease of it made her uneasy. “Aria, you’re not upset, are
you?”
Aria’s expression remained blank. If anything, she smiled, “No.
She’s sick, after all. The dying get their way!”
Chloe’s face paled. She didn’t dare press further.
Aria picked up her fork, staring at the crab roe on her plate with
detached indifference.
Then, Tessa’s video call lit up Chloe’s phone.
Chloe shot Aria an apologetic glance before hurrying to the sofa
to answer.
Seizing the moment, Zoe quietly swapped Aria’s plate. “Aria,
you’re allergic. Since Mrs. Whitmore is chatting with Tessa, you
shouldn’t force yourself. I know you keep antihistamines to
avoid disappointing her, but medicine is still poison. You’re the
one who suffers.”
Chapter 8
Aria looked at Zoe with genuine gratitude. “Thank you. I won’t
eat it again.”
Even an outsider had noticed her allergy medication. Yet her
family remained willfully blind.
Zoe only knew because, once, Aria’s allergic reaction had sent
her into a near–fatal fever.
It was Zoe who’d carried her to the hospital.
That night, the Whitmore family had crowded around Tessa,
who’d had a mild cold.
No one spared Aria a glance. “Just an allergy. Quit being
dramatic.”
For days, it was Zoe who nursed her back to health.
*****
After dinner, Aria helped Zoe clear the table.
As she dried her hands, she glanced at the living room, where
Chloe was still laughing over Tessa’s video call.
Aria’s resolve hardened.
Leaving was the right choice.
Chapter 8
Aria looked at Zoe with genuine gratitude. “Thank you. I won’t
eat it again.”
Even an outsider had noticed her allergy medication. Yet her
family remained willfully blind.
Zoe only knew because, once, Aria’s allergic reaction had sent
her into a near–fatal fever.
It was Zoe who’d carried her to the hospital.
That night, the Whitmore family had crowded around Tessa,
who’d had a mild cold.
No one spared Aria a glance. “Just an allergy. Quit being
dramatic.”
For days, it was Zoe who nursed her back to health.
*****
After dinner, Aria helped Zoe clear the table.
As she dried her hands, she glanced at the living room, where
Chloe was still laughing over Tessa’s video call.
Aria’s resolve hardened.
Leaving was the right choice.
Chapter 8
She’d realized too late.
Just like the first fifteen years of her life, she’d never truly
belonged here.
She was, and always had been, the outsider.
A promotional calendar hung in the living room, advertising a
real estate project. Beneath it, dates were marked in neat grids.
Aria picked up a pen and circled April 1st to 7th in red.
She counted silently, 23 days left.
*****
Upstairs, Aria showered, then opened a real estate app.
Since deciding to leave, she’d begun house–hunting in secret. She
wanted to disappear gradually.
After bookmarking a few listings, she scheduled viewings.
But the Yealchinn University district properties were too
competitive. The only available ones were dark, damp, and
overpriced. Her savings weren’t enough.
Ever since her fallout with the Whitmore family, no one had
given her a cent.
Chapter 8
Her money came from odd jobs–helping seniors with urgent
tasks.
As she boarded the bus home, Juliet called. “Aria, I heard you were discharged. You lost so much blood–why leave so soon?”
Aria touched her bandaged wrist. “I’m fine. Hospitals aren’t
exactly cozy!”
Juliet hummed in agreement, “Yeah, you’re right. Where are you? It’s so noisy!”
Aria glanced through the bus window and said, “On the bus. I
was house–hunting.”
She didn’t hide her intention of moving out. Juliet knew
everything, after all.
Juliet gasped, “You’re moving out? Did you find a place?”
“Not yet. I’ll keep looking tomorrow!” Aria shook her head.
It wasn’t that Aria was picky. But a home was long–term. Living
in discomfort would wear her down. With 23 days left, she
wasn’t in a rush. She could handle everything properly.
“Wait. Let me ask Bennett. He knows people; he’ll find
something fast,” Juliet smiled.
Chapter 8
Aria frowned. “Don’t. It’s not worth bothering him.”
