It was past midnight. Marguerite didn’t do any more homework. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She wondered where Lindsay lived and how long it would take her to get home. That patriarchal husband of hers had sounded so demanding. If someone spoke to her like that, she would slap them.

Lindsay’s marriage seemed incredibly unhealthy, but it wasn’t her marriage to interfere with, even as her best friend.

She picked up her phone and sent a message.

[Let me know when you get home.]

Then she tossed the phone aside, turned off the light, and was asleep in seconds.

She didn’t see the light in the living room downstairs that stayed on for a long, long time.

Nor did she see the tall, slender man who knelt by her bed in the deepest part of the night and pressed a kiss to the top of her pale foot.

Let me be a creep one last time.

The touch was so fleeting he barely felt the warmth of her skin, only smelled her intoxicating scent. He fought the urge to do more. The man stood, his eyes dark and wet, and looked at her peaceful face for a long, long time.

Just as the sky began to lighten, the handsome, pale man took one last, lingering look. As he turned to leave, a single tear fell, landing on the carpet by her bed, leaving a small, dark spot.

The next day, Marguerite woke up early for school as usual. When she came downstairs after washing up, she found the butler in a suit and bow tie.

“You’re here early today,” she said, surprised.

The butler smiled. “The master left on a business trip today, so I had to come in early.”

Marguerite was taken aback. “Huh? George is on a business trip? Where did he go? Is his hand fully healed?” That really didn’t care about his own health when it came to making money. And it was so sudden. He hadn’t mentioned anything last night.

“He went to Veridia,” the butler replied. “He’ll be gone for a while. As for his hand, I suppose it’s healed. By the way, I was thinking of arranging for two live-in maids during this time. Would that be alright?”

Marguerite blinked. “Of course. I’m heading to school now.” It wasn’t her house. She had no say in the matter. She didn’t even have the right to know when he was leaving.

The driver was already waiting outside with Aaron. Marguerite got in the car, and Aaron handed her a container of wonton noodle soup. “Maggie, eat it while it’s hot.”

The luxury van they took to school had a spacious back seat, big enough to eat a full meal in. Marguerite looked at the steaming soup. She hadn’t even had a late- night snack, but for some reason, she had no appetite this morning.

Why didn’t George tell her he was leaving today?

Then again, who was she? Why would he need to tell her anything? She was just a tenant.

Aaron noticed her subdued mood. “Maggie, what’s wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowing under his long bangs.

Marguerite looked up and smiled. “Nothing. Let’s eat together.”

Once at school, she had no time to think about George. It was all about

morning

studying. Throughout mat

she could feel her classmates stealing glances at her, their expressions a mix of curiosity, pity and scorn. During Breaks, students from other classes and even other grades would come by to stare at her as if she were an animal in a zoo.

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Aaron’s fists were clenched, ready to fight, but Marguerite stopped him. There were too many of them.

At lunchtime, Aaron said, “Maggie, let’s eat out today. The cafeteria food is disgusting.”

Marguerite knew he was just trying

to shield her from the stares, but she wasn’t afraid. “Who’s feeding peanuts to the cafeteria food?” she joked Aside from the chef’s “innovations,” the food at Pinecrest High was actually decent.

As expected, the cafeteria was full of prying eyes and loud whispers.

“I can’t believe she still has the nerve to eat here. That old woman has such thick

skin.”

“Hey, our school’s last-place student just moved up a rank overnight, hahaha!”

“I heard she’s involved with Theobald, the Northpine Wraith. Tsk, tsk, I wonder what kind of dirty relationship they have.”

Judy smiled as she walked into the cafeteria and heard the gossip. She had pulled Irene aside after class, and they had come to lunch together.

Irene frowned, elearly uncomfortable with the comments. Judy’s smile widened. See? She hates Marguerite too Who would like a

twentynine-year-old bag? an

She

began to scheme, trying to think of the best way to turn Irene

completely against her.

Marguerite, however, heard none of it. She was too preoccupied. She had

messaged Lindsay last night, but there had been no reply. She figured she had just

forgotten. So, as soon as she sat down, she sent another message.

[Are you awake?]

Five minutes passed. Still nothing.

No way, she thought. Was she that exhausted from… last night?

Or had something happened to Lindsay?