Chapter 2

We got off the train and took a ferry. It was nearly midnight when we reached the island.

There was an old house there. My father had left it to us. It wasn't big, but it would do for now. It was the only thing he had left behind for us.

The house had sat empty for a long time. Dust was everywhere. By the time we finished cleaning up, the sky was already starting to lighten.

Through the window, we could see a faint glow rising over the sea in the distance. We decided not to sleep and went to the beach to watch the sunrise.

We sat on the soft sand. The sea breeze blew away the tiredness from our sleepless night.

In the distance, the sun rose slowly above the water. Then, it broke through the clouds in an instant. Golden light spread across the sea. I rested my head on Elena's shoulder.

Suddenly, she spoke up. "I want to open a restaurant here."

She had said the same thing years ago. Then, Dad died and left us with a mountain of debt.

She went back to Jonathan, her ex-boyfriend, bringing Matthew, six at the time, with her. After that, Jonathan became her keeper, and she became his mistress, with no title and no place in his life.

Since opening a restaurant was out of the question, she kept trying all sorts of ways to cook for Jonathan.

But a few days later, he frowned and told her flatly, "I don't need a maid. I don't want to come home to a woman who smells like grease. It makes me sick."

After that, Elena never cooked again. But Jonathan still gave her the cold shoulder. That was when she understood. It was never about the cooking. He just found her disgusting.

But now, none of that mattered anymore.

I raised my beer can and clinked it with Elena's. To her success. To a good future.

*****

Elena's restaurant opened soon after. I also put money into a travel agency and started working as a sign language tour guide, showing deaf travelers around.

There were over 20 million deaf and mute people in the country. But sign language tour guides were rare.

I started leading groups of them around the island. I took them to watch the sunrise and sunset. When the tide went out, we'd go searching for shells and crabs under the rocks.

I watched them them smile and sign "thank you" to me in that familiar, heartfelt way.

After each tour, I went to Elena's restaurant for seafood. I waited for her to close up, and we walked home together.

The restaurant was booming.

Elena was pretty and ran the place honestly. People started filming the restaurant and posting videos online. It became a hit on social media.

Days went by. Ryan and Alex slowly faded from my memory, like a painting losing its color.

Then, more than a month later, late at night, after I had finished work and was about to sleep, Ryan suddenly messaged me: [What are you doing?]

For a second, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.

I had been with Ryan for five years. There were times I'd go away for a few days. For work or to stay at Elena's place for a while. But in all that time, he had never once asked where I was.

I stared at the message for a long while and couldn't figure out how to reply. Then, after some time, another message came through. He wrote: [Wrong person.]

I wasn't surprised. I closed the chat and didn't think much of it. I contacted the travel agency to check on the next day's tour.

After I finished all that, I noticed another message from Ryan. It had come half an hour earlier. He wrote: [How's your leg?]

I had no idea what he was getting at.

Maybe he had sent the wrong message and felt awkward, so he threw out a line to keep the conversation going. Or maybe, knowing him, he was just mocking me for his own amusement.

Either way, I didn't see any need to reply.

The healed wound on my leg seemed to ache again.

I remembered that day at the racetrack. The way he drove straight at me. The wind rushing past my ears. His face, cold and crazed, became sharp and clear in my mind once more.

It felt like a thorn suddenly scraping across my heart. I opened his profile. After a second of hesitation, I deleted him.

I wasn't going back to Riverside City anyway. No point staying in touch. We'd never had anything clear between us. Leaving now felt like there was nothing worth saying goodbye about.

My phone finally went quiet. I washed up and got into bed. I closed my eyes, and for some reason, the memory of first meeting Ryan came back.

That day, I had gone to Riverside City to find Elena. A sudden downpour caught me, and I ended up soaked and miserable.

But Jonathan had the servants stop me at the wrought iron gate. He gave me a cold, calm look. "This isn't a shelter for strays.I don't take in useless outsiders."

I tried to explain, "My sister is Elena. She's your girlfriend."

He let out a cold, incredulous laugh. "Girlfriend? Like she could ever be."

I couldn't get in. And Elena couldn't leave. She still hadn't paid Jonathan back.

That was when Ryan drove up. With that careless, laid-back look, he laughed and scolded Jonathan, "Are you even a man? Leaving your girl's sister out in the rain like this."

Jonathan said flatly, "Then why don't you take her home?"