Chapter 4

I tumbled onto the sofa, and now that he was right in front of me, I finally saw it wasn't Ethan, but Andrew.

His eyes were bloodshot, brimming with hatred. He looked like a wolf lurking in the shadows, ready to rip my throat out at any second.

It hit me like getting slammed in the face. For a split second, my mind went blank.

Andrew's voice reached me, distant and gritted. "After five years, you're still as low as ever.

"How could I have spent money that cost one of my parents' lives to save someone so ungrateful like you?"

It was money that cost a life. My thoughts swirled into a mess. Amid all the chaos, it felt like I was pulled back years ago.

It was Christmas Eve when I was eleven.

My dad came back from out of town and blew a whole month's paycheck on a toy car for my little brother.

My mom and grandma pulled out a lot of cash and handed it to him.

I stepped forward timidly, only to be met with an impatient slap from my dad and furious shouts from my mom and grandma.

That night, my legs throbbed badly where my younger brother had hit me with a brick and Christmas baubles.

I doused the backyard shed crammed with Christmas decorations with gasoline, my hands covered all over in bruises and wounds.

My mom owned a shop for these things in town. Whatever goods didn't fit in the store got stacked up in that utility room in the backyard.

It was like every other day over those eleven years. My family sat together eating and chatting. No one would notice if I vanished out of the blue.

I pressed the match against the box, about to strike it, when the loosely closed wooden door swung open all at once. I heard a boy call out my name. "Olivia."

Andrew had his grandma step in, handed my parents 15,000 dollars, saying she wanted to take me in as her adopted granddaughter.

He and I were from the same hometown. His parents had gone out of town to work years ago, but they died in a car accident.

They got 30,000 dollars in compensation for the two lives.

His grandma scraped together half the money and took me away, the burden my parents kept calling me.

Years later, countless times when I felt worn out, lost, unable to see what lay ahead, and ready to give up on life, that day would drift back to me in the silent stillness of late night.

The door swung open, and morning sunlight poured into the pitch-black utility room.

I looked toward the light and saw Andrew standing there.

His call of my name, seemingly falling out of thin air, echoed in my mind over and over through all those passing years.

Later on, Andrew became a star. At the peak of his fame, he'd caught me crying quietly late at night and announced our relationship to the public without a second thought.

He was thrown into chaos. His fans went wild, hurling insults at him. His rivals spread lies and tried to ruin him, and he was facing a mountain of compensation claims.

That night, I was completely lost and ended up at Ethan's place, begging him for help. He kept refilling my glass until I was wasted.

The next morning, I woke up in his bed, panicking and furious.

Ethan asked me, "Olivia, are you really going to call the cops? Maybe you should make a better choice."

So, I made a smarter decision.

Andrew, an A-list star, had announced his romance grandly, yet out of fear of public backlash, I chose to run away and betray him.

My reputation was dragged through the mud.

Andrew, the devoted man abandoned without mercy, returned to peak fame overnight.

I spent five years skulking in the shadows.

Now I met Andrew again, alongside his new lover. I saw his cold expression and eyes filled with hatred.

My mind was torn abruptly from those memories.

I stared at the man standing so close in the dimness. He felt near enough to touch, yet worlds apart.

He leaned in, his lips pressed against mine.

I trembled all over, as if my blood flowed the wrong way in my veins.

Panic flooded me as I tried to push him away, but then I heard Andrew's voice thick with hateful scorn. "What's wrong, Olivia? You're in this line of work now. Can you afford to turn away whoever comes?"

I clenched my fists. My shaking hand lifted, but he pinned my wrist down hard.

Andrew whispered in my ear, "What a shame. Ethan sent me here. How else would I have gotten in?"

My eyes were sore, and I gritted my teeth, trying to push him away again. "No way."

The phone buzzed. I saw a message from Ethan: [Something came up. Mr. Lane will take you to the haunted house and show you around.]