Chapter 3

3

A single financial aid form took them an entire week to complete.

Every day after school, Weston stayed behind to help her, their quiet laughter echoing down the hall.

There was a fragile yet unyielding aura about Daphne, like a delicate wildflower blooming in the mud.

Weston was utterly captivated. More than once, he told me, "Seeing Daphne made me realize how brutally hard some people have to fight just to survive."

Whenever I tried to talk to him about the latest indie movie or the art gallery opening this weekend, he showed zero interest.

"Jo, those things are so shallow. We should care more about real-world suffering."

"Daphne doesn't even have enough to eat, and she's constantly stressing over basic survival. How could anyone care about an art exhibition?"

Every conversation was forcefully steered back to how pitiful and brave Daphne was.

It felt as though having a wealthy family was my original sin.

It felt as though failing to constantly obsess over Daphne's misery made me cold, cruel, and spoiled.

I began to doubt myself.

Was I truly too high-maintenance and inconsiderate?

Was I really lacking basic empathy?

Late at night, I hid under my blanket crying, while the phantom floated near my headboard.

"Josie, stop making excuses for him."

"He is manipulating you and using guilt to control you."

"He is wearing down your self-esteem so you feel unworthy of his moral high ground."

I clamped my hands over my ears, refusing to look at her.

"I don't believe you! Weston is not like that!"

"We have years of history together! How could that lose to a girl who showed up two weeks ago?"

I had to prove her wrong.

I had to bring back the Weston whose eyes used to belong only to me.

That weekend, our senior class organized a hiking trip up the mountain.

I woke up at dawn to pack fresh gourmet sandwiches, making sure to include Weston's favorites.

I believed that as long as Daphne was not there, everything would go back to how it was.

Yet when I arrived at the meeting spot, my heart dropped―Daphne was there too.

Weston was kneeling on the ground in front of her, naturally tying her loose shoelaces.

It looked so intimate, so effortless.

I took a deep breath, walked over, and forced a bright smile.

"Weston, have you had breakfast? I made these sandwiches from scratch."

Weston stood up, casually wiping the dust off his hands. "Oh, not yet."

He took the sandwich from my hands and immediately passed it to Daphne behind him.

"Daphne skipped breakfast, and she gets low blood sugar easily. Let her have this."

Panic flared in my chest.

"I made that specifically for you! I left out the pickles because you hate them!"

Holding the sandwich, Daphne looked flustered and helpless.

"I... I'm not that hungry. Maybe I should give it―"

"Keep it," Weston said, glaring at me.

"It's just a sandwich, Josie. Do you have to make a scene?"

"Daphne is fragile. What if she faints out here? Can't you be a little more mature?"

Mature.

Over the past two weeks, that was the word I had heard most.

Swallowing back my tears, I watched Daphne take small, delicate bites of the breakfast I had prepared with so much love.

The phantom whispered in my ear.

"Do you see now?"

"Your devotion is nothing more than a convenient tool for him to score points with someone else."

"He uses your love to pamper another girl, and steps on you in the process."

During the hike, Weston stayed glued to Daphne's side, constantly checking on her.

"Watch your step here."

"Are you tired? Let me carry your backpack."

I trailed behind them like an unwanted ghost.

The trail grew steep and rocky, and my foot slipped on a loose stone.

"Ow!"

A sharp pain shot up my leg, and I tumbled to the ground, clutching my ankle.

Weston stopped and turned around, his brow furrowed in annoyance.

"What now?"

"I twisted my ankle. It really hurts," I whimpered, looking up at him, hoping he would offer to carry me like he used to.

Or at least offer a hand to pull me up.

Instead, he stayed rooted to the spot and glanced at Daphne.

Daphne was leaning against a tree trunk, pale and breathing heavily.

"Jo, do you really have to pick this exact moment to cause trouble?"

"Daphne's chest hurts, and I need to watch over her."

"Just walk up slowly on your own, or call your family's driver to pick you up at the base."

Without another word, he supported Daphne by the arm and continued up the trail.

"Hang in there, there's a rest cabin right at the summit," his gentle voice floated down to me.

It sounded so tender, but none of it was meant for me.

I sat on the cold stone steps, watching their silhouettes vanish into the trees.

The throbbing pain in my ankle could not hold a candle to the icy ache spreading through my chest.

The woman crouched down in front of me, reaching out as if to stroke my hair, but her hand passed right through me.

"Josie, do you still want to bet?"

"There is no room for you in his heart anymore."

I bit my lip, hot tears splashing onto the dirt.

"I won't believe it... not until he tells me to my face that he doesn't love me."

"He is just... he is just worried because Daphne is sick."

"Yes. He is just too kind."