Chapter 3
I hadn't meant to listen in on someone's private conversation.
But the voice on the other end of the line had been so loud, so agitated, and so fast that by the time I snapped out of it and hurried to hang up, I'd already heard more than I should have.
A slip of paper had fallen onto the carpet.
It must've come out when I'd fumbled with the drawer earlier, grabbing the pill bottles.
It was a diagnosis report—late-stage heart failure. The patient's name: Nolan Diaz.
The name struck a chord. It was the same one the man on the phone had been shouting about.
I thought for a moment before it came to me—something I'd seen trending not long ago.
Nolan, founder and CEO of Nolan Tech, had suddenly announced plans to sell the company, even though it was booming.
The timing made no sense. Selling now would mean taking a loss.
I remembered the news coverage—reporters swarming him, and him standing there with that same expression he wore now: calm, vacant, lifeless.
He'd said only one thing, "I'm tired. I just want to rest."
So it was him.
And the reason he wanted to die… was because he was dying.
Funny, how life worked.
Some people were perfectly healthy and still wanted to die. Others, even with everything going for them, got hit with a terminal diagnosis.
I picked up the paper carefully and tucked it back into the drawer with the pill bottles.
Stealing medication from someone with a terminal illness…
Even if I made it to hell, I'd probably still get spat on by the devil himself.
Outside, dusk was falling, and rain had started to fall in steady sheets.
It beat against the floor-to-ceiling windows, tapping louder and harder as the last traces of daylight disappeared.
Still no sign of him at the door.
He… didn't actually die out there, did he?
I sighed.
After a moment of internal debate, I stood up and stepped outside.
His car was still in the front yard. He must've left on foot.
And without his phone, he wouldn't have been able to call a ride—not until he got out of the neighborhood, anyway.
Maybe he hadn't gone far.
I grabbed an umbrella and headed out, walking through the rain and past the gates of the villa complex.
Then I hailed a cab and asked the driver to take me to the nearest mall.
Honestly, I doubted he was really out buying fish this late.
But I still wanted to look for him.
It was cold, and the mall was quieter than usual. Fewer people than normal.
I checked each floor, scanning every aisle, but didn't see him anywhere.
Just as I was about to give up and try a different mall—
A sharp, cold voice sounded behind me, "Who told you to follow me here?"
Charley.
I turned around. He was standing not far away, face tight with irritation, staring straight at me.
Standing next to Charley was Elsie Palmer, the daughter of a CEO he'd recently partnered with on a big project.
He was just there to negotiate a deal and somehow came back with a new honorary 'little sister'.
The CEO praised him endlessly—called him warm, generous, kind-hearted. But only I knew the truth. He'd never been the warm-hearted type.
He just didn't like me, his real sister.
It felt like my heart had been dropped in ice water—heavy, aching, and tight.
I'd spent years trying to get used to it.
The brother who used to dote on me, protect me, give in to my every whim...
Had turned into someone who couldn't look at me without disgust. Every word he spoke was sharp, cold, and full of contempt.
And yet, no matter how much time passed, I could never truly get used to it. Never really stop caring.
It took me a moment to push the feelings down.
I tightened my grip on the umbrella, forced myself to meet his eyes, and said as calmly as I could, "I wasn't following you. I… came to find someone."
His eyes darkened, voice full of suspicion and anger. "You've never once come to this part of town.
"If you weren't tailing me, who else would you be looking for?"
Just as he said that, I spotted a familiar figure behind him.
I couldn't clearly remember Nolan's face. It was still a blur in my mind.
But a face that pale, that still, that dead-looking—there couldn't be another one like it.
He was standing at a distance. Not close, but not far either.
He didn't move forward. Just stood there, watching me.
Like he preferred it this way—keeping some space, quietly observing.
Charley frowned when I didn't respond and snapped again, "I'm talking to you.
"Stop creeping around and following me. I'm not your brother. Get that through your head."
Nolan stood there holding a plastic bag.
Through the clear plastic, I could see a cleaned, freshly prepared fish inside.
He'd actually bought it. After being gone for over three hours, he really came back—with the fish.
And just like that, a memory surfaced—uninvited.
Years ago, I'd thrown a fit late one night, begging Charley for cake from that bakery on the far side of town.
He'd scolded me, said eating sweets that late would rot my teeth.
Plus, it was way past closing time.
I sulked and went to bed angry. But in the middle of the night, he came back, cold all over, sneaking into my room so our parents wouldn't wake up.
He pulled the cake out from inside his coat—it was still warm.
And with a stern face, he told me, "This is the last time."
But somehow… there was always another "last time."
I snapped back to reality and looked at the fish again.
Then, unexpectedly, I let out a quiet laugh.
Charley stared at me like he'd just seen a ghost.
He followed my gaze, and when he turned to see Nolan standing there, his face twisted in shock and anger.
"Why the hell is that guy still here?"
I finally pulled my eyes away from the fish and gave him my answer.
"I didn't come for you. I came to find my brother."