That night. I didn’t go home. I curled up on a hospital bench to sleep through the night.


    The next day when I woke up, I was burning up with a fever.


    My phone was silent the whole night; Dexter didn’t call even once.


    “Ryder…” I called him from the bench. “About that study abroad thing. I’ve made up my mind.”


    “Phoebe, do you have a cold?” Ryder’s voice came through,ced with concern.


    “Yeah, got caught in the rain yesterday. Feeling a bit under the weather today.”


    “Where are you? I’ll drop off some cold medicine,” Ryder was worried.


    “If I hand in the application form today, how soon can I leave the country?” I asked with a sense of


    urgency in my voice.


    At that time, I had a premonition that I might not survive if I didn’t leave.


    I wanted to live, to get as far away from Dexter as possible.


    Material ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    As long as I left, it would all be over.


    “If you apply now, you can get an eptance letter in two months. I’ll ask the professor to expedite it.


    Once you get the notice, I’ll buy your ne ticket,” Ryder said, his voiceced with concern. “Is the cold


    serious? Should Ie get you?”


    “No need, Ryder… I’m at the hospital. Thank you.”


    I thought that in two months, I would be able to leave Sea City forever, escape this ce as well as


    Dexter.


    After hanging up, I left the hospital.


    Wandering the back alleys outside the hospital, I suddenly felt lost, unsure where to go. My parents


    had died in a car ident, the house was sold, and the deathpensation was gone to debts. Apart


    from the Fitzgerald family, I had nowhere to go.


    I didn’t even know where home was anymore.


    Feeling dizzy, I found a corner to sit down, leaning against the wall and falling back into a groggy sleep.


    I don’t know how long I slept, but when I woke up, I found a jacket covering me. Although worn. it was


    clearly washed with care.


    I looked around; the alley was deserted.


    Getting up, I noticed two stic–wrapped muffins beside me.


    I smiled bitterly, feeling somewhat resigned. A kind soul must have mistaken me for a homeless


    person, right?


    Homeless?


    That seemed about right.


    Dexter once said. “You live in my house, eat my food, and use my stuff. So, what’s the difference


    between you and a beggar?”


    There was no difference.


    atly folded the jacket and ced it with the muffins on a clean spot.


    If the kind soul returned, they would probably take it back.


    I steadied myself against the wall and took a few steps, then turned around at a rustling noise to see a


    tall, lean figure in a hoodie disappear around the corner.


    Without giving it much thought, I walked straight out of the alley and hailed a cab.


    When I returned to the Fitzgerald mansion, Dexter was there.


    “Dexter, where’s Phoebe? She hasn’te back? She didn’te home all night,” Hailey asked.


    worry etching her features.


    “She’s an adult; she can’t be dead, can she?” Dexter said with irritation.


    I stood outside the door, watching Dexter’s impatient demeanor, and sighed.


    “Miss Phoebe, there’s someone at the door for you. The man says his name is Ryder, your senior,” the


    housekeeper informed me as I lingered outside.


    I hesitated for a moment, then ran outside.


    Why had Rydere?


    “Ryder.” I reached the entrance and saw Ryder holding a bag of medicine, waiting for me.


    “I brought you some cold medicine,” Ryder said with a smile.


    I felt a wave of gratitude and reached out to take the medicine.


    “The Fitzgerald people are not so poor that we need you to deliver cold medicine,” Dexter’s icy voice


    came from behind.


    I didn’t realize when he hade out, but as he approached, my whole body tensed.


    “Dexter, Phoebe is sick. There’s no need for snide remarks,” Ryder frowned.


    “Yes, she’s sick, what’s it to you? What are you to her? Why are you so concerned? You two been


    intimate?” Dexter deliberately taunted me.


    My eyes filled with tears as I looked at Dexter, “Then what’s there between us? Why are you talking to


    my friend like this?”


    Dexter, who seemed to be surprised by my retort, frowned, “Well, Phoebe, you’re getting bold


    now. What are we to each other? Should I announce to everyone that I’ve slept with you, or that you’ve


    lived in our house like a beggar for years?”


    . As I looked at Dexter, my breath was hitched and my vision was trembling with despair.