Chapter 4

I stepped out of the Stellar Holdings tower and into the blinding midday sun, but I couldn't feel any of its warmth.

The mirrored glass wall stood behind me, reflecting the flow of clouds against the vast sky.

I glanced back at the colossal structure. It looked like a giant, heartless monster that devoured the dreams and dignity of everyone who dared to enter.

And Emily was at the very top.

The spine I had managed to keep straight in that conference room collapsed the moment I hit the sidewalk.

An overwhelming wave of exhaustion and emptiness washed over me, settling deep in my bones.

I felt like a marionette with its strings cut, shuffling aimlessly down the crowded street.

Her words played on a loop in my head.

"No career plan."

"Liking things doesn't pay the bills."

"You made a very poor investment."

"You'll be responsible for the warehouse and inventory."

Every word was a white-hot brand, searing another hole in my heart.

The choices I had made, the sacrifices, and the love I thought I was giving were a bad investment with a terrible return. What a joke.

I let out a bitter laugh, but my eyes were burning.

I passed a small city park and collapsed onto a bench.

A few kids were chasing each other nearby, their laughter echoing in the air.

An old man sat next to me, listening peacefully to a radio.

The world was so alive, and I was just a ghost, abandoned in a corner.

I pulled out my phone and opened a job app.

The screen was a graveyard of applications, each one marked with a gray "Viewed" or "Not a Fit."

The last of my savings wouldn't even cover next month's rent.

My father needed his medicine.

Reality was a net, and it had me pinned down, unable to move.

When I refused Emily's charity, I felt like I had reclaimed some shred of my dignity.

But now, I realized my dignity couldn't pay the rent.

Maybe I should have taken the warehouse job.

At least it was a paycheck. At least it would have kept me from going under.

The thought surfaced for a split second before I brutally crushed it.

I could be poor. I could be a failure. But I would not be without dignity.

If I had taken that job, I would have become exactly what she saw: a loser who had been beaten down by life and finally given up.

I would rather die than let her see me like that.

My phone buzzed.

An unknown number flashed on the screen.

I swiped to answer, my voice dropping into a lifeless rasp. "Hello?"

"Is this Alex Chapman?" a tentatively fawning voice asked from the other end.

I was taken aback for a moment since the voice sounded oddly familiar.

"This is he. Who's calling?"

"Oh, Mr. Chapman! It's Paul Lewis! From Stellar Holdings! We met just a little while ago!"

It was the HR director.

What could he possibly want?

Had Emily changed her mind? Was she sending him to offer me a better position with a higher salary to buy my silence?

A fresh wave of anger washed over me.

"What is it?" I said coldly.

"Mr. Chapman, please don't get the wrong idea!" he exclaimed, his voice carrying a layer of desperate politeness.

"Are you free right now? Ms. Warren... she would like to see you. Not at the office. In private."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

Emily wanted to see me privately?

What else did she want? Did she really intend to ruin me twice because the first humiliation was not deep enough to satisfy her?

"I'm busy," I said flatly.

Paul sounded desperate now, his voice cracking. "No, please, Mr. Chapman! This isn't an interview, I swear! Ms. Warren has something very important to discuss with you. It's... it's a personal matter. She insisted that I reach out to you."

The same man who had looked at me with such disdain was now practically begging.

The jarring shift in his tone set off alarm bells in my head.

What was Emily's game?

"And why would I want to see her?" I shot back.

The line went silent for a few seconds.

I could almost hear Paul scrambling for the right words.

"Mr. Chapman," he said, his voice dropping low, "Ms. Warren said that if you agree to meet, she will tell you why she left all those years ago without a word."

That sentence hit me like a physical blow, knocking the air from my lungs.

For thirteen years, that question had haunted my waking moments and my dreams.

Why?

Why did she just vanish without a trace?

My hand holding the phone was trembling until my knuckles turned white.

At that moment, my anger and resentment meant nothing compared to the answer I needed.

I needed an answer for the thirteen years I had lost and for the youth she had dismissed as a "poor investment."

"Where?"

I heard myself speak, the words coming out in a rasp.