Chapter 6
I was trapped in another nightmare.
My whole body felt frozen, yet I was soaked in sweat.
Then, I heard someone gently calling beside me, “Wake up… wake up…”
A hand nudged my arm.
The soft voice sounded just like the one in my dreams–my parents, soothing me again and again. “Don’t fall asleep…”
I jerked awake, gasping for air.
It took a while before my vision cleared.
The taxi had already stopped outside the villa complex. Nolan turned to look at me, worry in his eyes.
He pulled out a tissue.
After a brief pause, he reached over and dabbed the sweat from my forehead.
“You look really pale. Are you carsick?” he asked.
I tilted my head to look at him but said nothing.
Maybe it was because I’d just woken up–his face seemed to blur and sharpen in turns.
For a second, I thought I saw Charley.
Nolan let out a soft sigh.
He took out his wallet, paid the fare, opened the car door, and helped me out.
“It’s not far. Let’s walk the rest of the way, okay?”
I didn’t answer, just followed him.
The night was getting darker. The heavy rain had stopped.
I stood by the unfamiliar roadside. A gust of wind hit me head–on, and I instinctively shrank into myself.
For a moment, I felt completely lost–unsure what year or month it was, or even why I was here at all.
Nolan didn’t seem to know what to say either.
We stood there in silence for a while. Then he glanced at the two umbrellas I was still holding and asked,
“Did you come all the way just to bring me an umbrella?”
I looked at him for a long time.
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Finally, I nodded. “Yeah. You didn’t drive… and you didn’t have your phone.”
Maybe it was the streetlight, or maybe my eyes were still playing tricks on me-
But I thought I saw Nolan’s expression falter. For a split second, it looked like his eyes turned red.
The truth was, it wasn’t just about the umbrella.
I’d thought… maybe something had happened to him out there.
But saying something like that out loud–it just didn’t feel right.
I walked with Nolan into the villa complex.
We hadn’t gone far before my body started to give out.
That familiar wave of anxiety hit–mixed with a pounding headache.
It came in surges, like waves crashing over me.
My therapist once told me this was normal for someone with depression.
When it happens, find somewhere comfortable and take a break.
Reach out to someone close. Let them be with you. Talk to them.
But I hadn’t had anyone like that in a long time.
My brother, Charley, resented me.
He took over the family business seven years ago. Since then, most of the people I once called friends have slowly drifted toward him, hoping for a favor.
Eventually, they started treating me the same way he did–distant, indifferent.
Somewhere along the line, I just stopped trying to open up to anyone.
Fighting through the headache, I stopped walking.
Nolan had gone a little ahead, but must’ve noticed I wasn’t behind him anymore.
He turned back in the darkness, watching me silently from a short distance, Just like he always did–keeping a bit of space between us, saying nothing.
And suddenly, I understood why.
Maybe from far enough away, it was easier to pretend someone was someone else–someone from your past.
Like now, as I looked at him through the dim light, I could almost see Charley.
And maybe, as he looked at me, he was picturing the sister he lost–the one that man had mentioned on the phone. The one he said was already gone.
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Chapter 6
A car pulled out from the villa complex.
A pair of blinding headlights swept across my face and vanished.
Even though the glare hit me, it was Nolan who squinted.
In the heavy night, his face looked even paler than before.
He stayed where he was, not moving closer.
Raising his voice just slightly, he asked, “You can’t walk anymore? Want me to carry you?”
The streetlight filtered through the branches overhead. I watched him from within the shifting shadows.
Then nodded. “Okay.”
Nolan walked over and slipped off his coat.
He glanced at the top of my head before gently draping it over my shoulders.
Then he took the things out of my hands, turned around, and crouched in front of me.
Honestly, the moment I agreed, I started to second–guess it.
He looked so worn down–was he really in any condition to carry me?
So when I climbed onto his back, I was as careful as I could be, terrified he might stumble or fall.
But surprisingly, his mood seemed to lift a little.
The man who usually looked sickly and drained even managed a faint smile. “It’s not that serious,” he said.
He stood up with me on his back, his voice gentle. “Let’s go home.”
My eyes suddenly stung.
Without warning, tears fell–silent and hot–landing on his shoulder.
He paused for a moment. I couldn’t tell if he felt it.
I bit down hard on my lip, holding back the sound.
But I couldn’t stop my mind from drifting.
So many times in the past, Charley used to wait for me at night too.
From a distance, he’d wave and call out, “Erma, over here!”
Like he was afraid I wouldn’t see him. Afraid I’d get lost.
And when I pouted and said I was too tired to walk, he’d scoop me up and say, “Let’s go home.”
But now, he doesn’t want me anymore.
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Chapter 6
He said, “I’m not your brother.”
He said, “Figure it out. Stop coming to me.”
In one night, I lost my parents. Lost my brother’s love.
And that same night, I was diagnosed with PTSD.
Over and over, in memories and dreams, I relived that night.
Every detail the same. Every feeling just as vivid.
The shaking floor. The crashing chandelier.
My parents holding me close, whispering the same words again and again.
“Erma, don’t fall asleep…”
“Don’t sleep. Don’t sleep…”
“That was a recording.”
“Ms. Lyons, it was just a recording…”
Charley’s fury, the way he lashed out at me.
Then came the severe depression.
My therapist once suggested, “Why don’t you talk to your brother?”
But by then, our family had already fallen apart.
Charley had just turned eighteen when he was forced into the company. The pressure changed him.
He didn’t deserve to carry even more pain because of my mental illness.
Still, those memories crept back in–painful and uncontrollable.
My body trembled. I heard a soft whimper.
Maybe it was the wind. Maybe it was me.
Then I heard Nolan’s voice by my ear. “Starry.”
I tilted my head and looked up. The sky was dark and empty.
“There are no stars,” I whispered.
He didn’t say anything after that.
Not until we finally reached the gate of the villa. Then he said softly, “We’re home, Starry.”
Right. He was talking to someone.
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Chapter 6
Nolan the successful young CEO–once had a sister named Starry Diaz.
We stepped through the iron gate. He gently set me down.
Then he turned to look at me. His expression softened, like he was about to say something-
But when he saw my face clearly, he froze for just a second.
