"Networking?" I had scoffed when I overheard him talking to one of his friends on the phone. "Is that what you call flirting now?"
Haley wasn't much better. She had started attending school, but instead of focusing on her studies, all she cared about were the rich kids she had befriended. She beca obsessed with fitting in, spending ridiculous amounts of money on makeup, designer clothes, and shopping sprees. Bars, parties, and the latest trends—her priorities were clear, and none of them included her education.
"I need to keep up with them, Eve," she had told one night, rolling her eyes when I questioned her spending. "You wouldn't understand. You were never the new girl in an elite school."
I had been new before. I had been the outcast. But I hadn't thrown money at the problem—I had worked through it.
Then there was my mother. She had always been a beautiful woman, but ever since moving here, she had beco obsessed with her looks. Weekly facials, spa treatnts, expensive skincare—every ti I checked my transactions, there was another charge for a luxury beauty service.
The woman who had once been humble, grateful, and practical had suddenly transford into soone who wouldn't settle for anything less than the best.
I confronted her once. "Mom, do you really need to go to a spa every week?"
She had given a sweet smile, completely oblivious to my frustration. "Oh, Eve, I'm just taking care of myself. You wouldn't want your mother looking old and worn out, would you?"
I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Of course not, but—"
She cut off with a laugh, patting my hand as if I was the one being unreasonable. "Then don't worry about it. You work so hard; let have this little joy, okay?"
It wasn't little. Not when the expenses kept piling up.
At least my father was working—that was one thing I had been grateful for. Or so I thought.
Dad had taken a job at Hyun's Studios, a position I had arranged for him. But instead of doing the work assigned to him, he had taken it upon himself to run the place.
I had received an email from Hyun himself, politely yet firmly informing that my father had been ordering people around, making decisions that weren't his to make, and acting as if he owned the company.
"Eve, I respect you, but your father is disrupting my studio. I don't want to be rude, but this can't continue."
The words had stung. I had wanted my father to have purpose, to feel useful—but not like this.
I needed to find a way to transfer him sowhere else, sowhere he couldn't cause problems. QuantumLyf ca to mind—a massive corporation that could offer him a role suited to his leadership tendencies—but there was a problem.
It was restricted.
As much as I wanted to help him, I couldn't risk the confidentiality of my work, not even for my own father.
Too many things were at stake.
I sat in my room that night, staring at my laptop screen, my mind racing. A month ago, I had believed that finding my family would finally make whole. That their presence would fill the void in my heart.
But now?
I wasn't so sure anymore.
Or maybe . . . it wasn't just them. Maybe it was .
Maybe everything just felt unfamiliar, and I wasn't used to the concept of family. After spending so much ti alone, having four rowdy people in my apartnt was sothing I struggled to adjust to.
I had spent so many years alone even in Sinclair's hous—working, surviving, carving out a place for myself in a world that didn't hand out kindness freely. I had built walls, trained myself to be independent, to not need anyone.
And now, suddenly, I was expected to just belong? To fall into this perfect family dynamic as if we hadn't been strangers for most of our lives?
I wasn't used to this.
I wasn't used to caring so much about people who had once been nothing more than a distant hope.
And yet, I did.
I cared enough to worry about them. Enough to want to lecture them about their future, to warn them about wasting money, to push them to do better. Was that normal? Was it supposed to feel this frustrating?
I didn't know.
Maybe if Cole were here, he could tell .
The thought made my chest ache. Cole. My boyfriend. The only person in this world who had ever truly felt like ho. But, like always, he was nowhere to be found. He was out of the country again, unreachable, lost in whatever business deal or responsibility had pulled him away this ti.
I had tried to reach out. Sent him ssages.
He never responded imdiately, and when he did, it was always short, always distant.
"Zen said you were busy," I had typed once, hoping to get sothing more out of him. "Are you okay? Where are you?"
Hours later, his reply ca.
"Busy. Nothing to worry about."
That was it.
No explanations. No reassurances. No 'I miss you.'
I had told him about finding my family. About the joy, the confusion, the ss of emotions I was drowning in. I had expected sothing—excitent, shock, anything.
Instead, all I got was:
"Good for you. I'll check up on you soon. I'll et them when I get back."
A polite, aningless promise. A ssage that told nothing.
I stared at my phone, gripping it tighter than I should have.
Cole had always been distant, but lately, it felt like he was slipping away entirely.
I hated this feeling—the feeling of reaching for sothing only to grasp at empty air.
"Sis! Let's go! The mall is about to close soon!" Haley's voice rang from the other side of the door.
I took a deep breath. Were all siblings like this? The mall wouldn't close until ten, and it was only six! Was shopping really all she could think about?
"Alright, I'm coming!" I called back.
Maybe it was my fault—I indulged them too much, even when I didn't like their attitude.
Reviews
All reviews (0)