Chapter 6

I found Evan when I was twenty, in the hallway.

He was eleven then, locked out by his biological father and stepmother.

Wearing spring clothes in the dead of winter, shivering with cold, bruises all over.

Clinging to my pant leg, murmuring he was hungry.

So I took him home, made him a bowl of instant noodles, and added a sausage.

Back then, things were tense between James and me.

He didn’t want me involved in his affairs, told me to focus on my studies.

But he kept getting hurt.

I couldn’t stand it.

Money, those few bucks, could really be life-threatening.

I compromised with my mom, saying I broke up with James and would come home to inherit the family business.

She mocked me.

But she also knew, the shares my grandparents left were only mine to control.

She hated me.

But she needed me.

She couldn’t do anything to me, so she recorded what I said and played it for James.

James didn’t believe it.

He believed in me.

So he felt incredibly guilty.

Guilty for not protecting me.

Guilt turned into arguments.

From arguing about things to arguing about feelings.

Then making up.

Over and over.

Evan was an accident.

I fed him on and off for half a year.

James didn’t care, wasn’t bothered.

But because he always had a cold face, Evan was afraid of him.

Later, Evan’s father found out about our relationship.

His murky eyes ogled me up and down, lust clear as day.

Evan must have overheard something, he spent his last pocket money on a knife.

Scared and desperate.

I cooked him a bowl of noodles, took the knife away, told him not to worry about anything.

I let the man into my house, tore my clothes, pinned me to the bed.

I watched as the woman followed him.

They fought, and the man stabbed the woman in the stomach.

He fled in panic, taking all the cash from my safe.

The newly installed surveillance recorded the whole thing.

He was caught, sentenced heavily.

To me back then, it was a perfect setup.

James said nothing, silently applied medicine to my wounds.

After a long time, he spoke.

"You shouldn’t have used yourself as bait."

"What if something happened to you?"

Those words stuck with me.

But there was another sentence, which I understood years later.

He said, "You’re filthy, go take a shower."