Chapter 2

"I want to grow a tree that's truly mine," I said.

Henry looked confused. "Miss Anderson, you want to grow a tree?"

I smiled. "Yeah, Caleb said sponsoring a kid in need is like nurturing a flower—watching her bloom, grow up, and become something beautiful.

"I want to know what that feels like too."

"Help me find the boy in the photo as soon as possible," I said to Henry.

Half an hour later, Henry's voice came from outside the door, with a hint of hesitation.

"Miss Anderson, I've brought him back," he said.

That was fast.

I put down my coffee cup and said, "Come in."

The door opened, and Henry guided a teenage boy inside.

The boy was tall and slender, but looked pretty rough—his white shirt was covered in blood and dirt.

He had some pretty nasty bruises on his face.

I frowned slightly. "What happened?"

Henry replied, "Right after he left the Anderson villa, a bunch of guys jumped him. Seems like he got on the wrong side of someone. He wouldn't let me take him to the hospital, so I went ahead and brought him to you, Miss Anderson."

I walked up to the boy, lifted his chin with my hand, and took a good look at him.

He looked exactly like the boy in the photo—fair skin, elegant features, and those eyes... Even with the bruises, they were hauntingly beautiful.

"What's your name?" I asked.

The boy lifted his eyes slightly, his voice hoarse. "Bentlee Navarro."

I lifted his chin a bit higher, closing the distance between us, my voice cool as I spoke.

"Bentlee, nice name. But no one causes trouble in front of the Anderson family, so what are you really doing here?" I asked.

Bentlee's lips quivered, like he was about to say something...

Never mind, I cut him off. "I don't care why. I know Caleb's been after you, turning your life and school into a mess. But if you stick with me, I'll keep you safe. Want to give it a try?"

Bentlee looked up at me, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "Miss Anderson, do you just want to take in everyone you meet?"

I replied matter-of-factly, "Definitely not."

Bentlee's lips curled into a faint smile. "Good."

But just as he finished talking, his breathing got all heavy, and sweat started dripping down his forehead.

I could tell something wasn't right, so I reached over and touched his forehead—he was burning up.

"Did someone spike you or something?" I asked.

"Henry, get the doctor here and bring some ice," I said.

Bentlee gritted his teeth, doing his best not to lose control, but still ended up collapsing right into my arms.

Without hesitation, I kicked him straight into the icy bathtub.

He came to his senses with a jolt.

My face didn't change a bit as I grabbed a glass of ice water and pushed it towards Bentlee. "Drink some water. The doctor will be here soon."

Bentlee didn't take the glass. His eyes were unfocused, with something shadowy and complicated swirling deep inside.

He rasped, "We just met. Why are you being so nice to me?"

I just let out a lazy "oh" and replied slowly, "Because I want to give you sunshine, rain, and air. I want to see you grow into a tree that lives just for me."

Bentlee's breath stuttered as he pulled his hand away. "So you're really into raising trees, huh?"

It wasn't even a question—more like he'd known all along I was into growing trees.

That was odd, though I couldn't figure out why. I let it slide, turned on my heel, and left the bathroom.

What I missed was Bentlee, his gaze fixed on where I'd just gone, voice thick and unreadable.

"Just like in my last life... Rihanna," Bentlee muttered under his breath.

The doctor showed up in no time, got the poison out of him, and patched up his wounds.

Henry took him to a guest room to rest, while I went back to my study to dig into his background.

His file was weird.

He was an orphan, a poor kid, nothing to his name...

He should've had a rough life, but his hands didn't even show a trace of callus.

Real or not, he naturally looked like a little sapling just waiting for someone to rescue him... almost too innocent, luring me closer without even trying.

Night pressed in, rain pounding harder and harder against the window.

A dull ache pulsed in my knee, making every step feel unsteady.

Ever since I got injured, my knee acted up whenever the sky turned dark and the rain came down.

Out of nowhere, I heard a knock at the door.

I sighed, too tired to move, and said, "Come in."

I thought it'd be Henry, but to my surprise, it was Bentlee.

Bentlee strolled in wearing black pajamas, the sleeves carelessly pushed up to his elbows, holding a small bottle of essential oil.

His eyes went straight to my knee, calm as ever, but carrying a quiet command I didn't dare refuse.

"Let me help with your knee," Bentlee said, stepping forward.

I frowned. "No need."