Chapter 3

3

Owen and I grew up in the same group home.

Since I was a few months older, I naturally took on the role of his protector.

Whenever we fought for food, I gave him first pick; whenever donated clothes arrived, I let him choose first; and when school opportunities came up, I supported him going to a better art academy.

So when he learned they were going abroad together, Owen thumped his chest and swore to me.

"Don't worry, Gavin! I'll watch over Nora for you. I won't let any guy get near her!"

In that moment, all I thought was how lucky Nora was not to be alone in a foreign country.

After they left, my life reverted to the frantic hustle from before the exam.

Her mother and I needed to eat, pay rent, and buy medication.

All I could do was work endless shifts and catch up on sleep during lectures.

Leo's brow furrowed again.

"That was her mother! Why were you the one taking care of her, buying meds, and paying all the bills?"

"Did she just go abroad to enjoy life, without working, sending you back nothing?"

I closed my eyes for a second before answering quietly, "Pretty much."

At first, Nora called me every day, venting about how expensive everything was, how hard it was to find a job, and how she could barely afford to eat.

Owen also complained about how tough things were over there, claiming our days in the foster home were better than studying abroad.

Feeling terrible for them, I pinched every penny I had and wired money over to support them.

Gradually, the calls grew sparse, until six months later, they only accepted my money transfers without replying.

Right then, Leo's phone buzzed, and he hurried out to clock off.

I took one last look at Maisie's file, packed my things, and went home.

In the shower, I pulled off my scarf, revealing the jagged, ugly scar across my neck.

Nora had put it there.

Ten springs ago, unable to reach either Nora or Owen, I spent my last bit of savings on a cheap flight to find her.

What I found was Nora wrapped in Owen's arms, sharing a deep, passionate kiss under the streetlights.

When they parted, he gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, both of them smiling with a tender sparkle in their eyes.

The gentle spring breeze, the warm streetlights, and the rustling leaves framed them like a painting.

I lost my mind, lunging forward to tear them apart and smashing the travel mug in my hands straight into Owen's face.

Yet just as I raised my hand to slap him, Nora hurled the mug right back at me.

It hit the side of my face.

Scalding hot water burst out, pouring straight down my neck.

I had forgotten that the lid had broken the very day they first met, never sealing properly again.

All that time, I had never had the spare cash to buy a replacement.

The burn flared with agonizing pain, but Nora didn't even glance at it, shielding Owen behind her as she glared at me coldly.

"Gavin Brooks, if you want to hate someone, hate me. Owen didn't do anything wrong to you."

I hated them.

Of course I hated them.

Ignoring the burning agony, I screamed, demanding to know why they had betrayed me.

Owen began to cry, his quiet whimpers turning into an explosive sob as a crowd started gathering around us.

"Gavin, you have no idea how hard it was for us over here! We only had each other to lean on, so being together was completely natural!"

I couldn't accept that excuse.

"You think I had it easy back home? You two had each other, but what did I have? I had nobody but myself!"

Nora stepped in front of me, keeping Owen firmly in her protective bubble.

Her eyes cast downward, her voice flat and cold.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault."

"But Owen isn't lying to you. We went through so much together this past year, and we kept quiet only because we didn't want you to worry."

A chill ran straight through my chest, and I stared at her, enunciating every single word.

"Nora, you two went through a lot in one year, so the seven years we spent together don't count for anything?"

"Do you have any idea that before I flew here, your mother was sitting at home worrying sick about you?"

"Meanwhile, you haven't sent a single text in six months, took my money transfers, and turned around to hook up with my best brother!"

She snapped her head up, her lips tightly pressed, her dark eyes looking like bottomless black holes.

I knew her well; growing up poor had made her deeply sensitive and insecure about money.

Throughout college, whenever she ran into relatives who had lent her money, she practically bowed to the floor.

Not to mention that for all those years, I had essentially carried both her and her mother financially.

"Gavin, I spent your money, and I wronged you."

"How do you want me to pay you back? Is my life enough?"

With that, she pulled a folding fruit knife from her bag.

Without a second of hesitation, she plunged it straight into her own abdomen.