Chapter 5

My mom sounded anxious. "Blair, the organization you applied to sent a notice this morning.

"Someone reported you for accidentally killing someone a year ago, and they're asking for a written explanation or any extra evidence you can provide.

"What's going on here? Why didn't you ever tell us anything about this?"

My phone fell to the floor.

I bent down to grab it, but lost my balance and tumbled down too.

Just then, a nurse came in to change my bandage.

"Oh no, Miss Newton, are you okay?" the nurse exclaimed.

She quickly set down her things, helped me up from the floor, and got me back into bed.

After she finished changing my bandage, she said, "Once your IV is done, you can be discharged."

I nodded in a daze.

My mom kept pressing me with anxious questions. "Blair, what happened? Didn't you say this was a done deal? How did things turn out like this?

"Did someone really report you? Hello? Blair?"

I hung up in a hurry.

Just as I expected, there was a missed call from an unknown number.

I called back right away. It turned out to be someone from the review team.

"We tried calling you yesterday but couldn't reach you," said the review team member. "We've already mailed the written notice to the address you gave us. Take a look at it yourself when it arrives."

I hung up stiffly.

With trembling hands, I pulled the IV needle out of my hand. Ignoring the doctor and nurse who tried to stop me, I insisted on getting discharged from the hospital.

When I got home, faced with my parents' questions, my mind was a total mess.

I forced a smile, but it looked even uglier than crying.

My parents just exchanged a glance, handed me the document, and stayed silent.

I took the document and went back to my room, shutting the door firmly behind me.

My hands were shaking as I opened the folder.

As soon as I saw what was inside, cold sweat broke out all over my body.

My scalp prickled with dread, and goosebumps erupted down my back.

A year ago, I was heading to meet Dennis when I passed by a school building that was still under renovation.

Suddenly, a construction worker grabbed me and dragged me into a patch of woods.

I fought back with everything I had, struggling like crazy. I grabbed a brick and swung it at his head as hard as I could.

I didn't remember how many times I hit him, only that under the hazy moonlight, I could barely make out his body drenched in blood, his head a bloody mess.

When I saw he wasn't moving at all, panic hit me hard. I ran for my life, not daring to look back.

I was bawling my eyes out, totally lost, as I dialed Dennis for help.

Dennis showed up in no time, shielding me and making sure I got to the police station safely to report everything.

When the time the ambulance finally showed up, he was long dead.

The school swept everything under the rug, but people kept gossiping about it behind my back.

On top of that, the victim's family sued me.

Rumors spread like wildfire.

During that time, I was diagnosed with severe depression, and losing handfuls of hair.

I spent all my time hiding out in Dennis's apartment, not daring to set foot outside.

Terrified, I couldn't bring myself to tell my parents, so I begged the school to help me keep it under wraps.

Dennis did everything he could, pulling every string to fix things for me.

In the end, we finally settled with the victim's family.

The lawsuit was dropped, and the case was closed for good.

Through it all, Dennis never left my side, sticking with me through the darkest days of my life.

Back then, Dennis was my savior, the only one who kept me going.

But I never thought what happened back then would end up being the reason someone reported me now.

Only a handful of people even knew about it.

I opened up the public notice page again.

Besides my name, there were two other names listed. One of them was Fiona Manning.

I knew Dennis had a little sister named Fiona, but I'd heard she was studying abroad, so I never expected to be fighting for the same job as her.

Suddenly, Dennis's threat popped into my head. "Give it three days and you'll be dying to take it all back."

The possibility alone sent chills through me.

My mind was still in a fog.

I took Dennis off my block list and called him.

Every time, I'd get the same automated message saying, "The user you are trying to reach is currently on another call."

I couldn't help but think maybe he'd blocked me too.

I kept calling Dennis again and again, getting more and more frustrated, until my phone was about to die.

Even after I charged my phone, I kept calling, but it was always the same damn message.

I kept blowing up his phone from noon all the way until ten at night.

My parents kept asking me to come out and eat, but I just couldn't bring myself to respond.

After ten, instead of the busy signal, my calls started getting instantly rejected.

I kept dialing, numb and desperate, over and over again.

Every time, he declined my call within three seconds.

For two whole hours, every single time I called, Dennis shot down my call at once.