Let Me Go, Mr.Lancaster!

Sybarite was a highend pub located in the heart of the business district in Manhattan. And just like any other night, it was in full blast with booze, lofty music, and patrons having a good time.

At the threshold of the club was Hope Lancaster, who was busy talking to her friend on the phone. Hope worked there as a waitress for her to sustain her life's daily needs.

"Where are you? I need to—" Sydney, her friend, said over. Not having the time to talk any longer, Hope hang up on her.

She then averted her gaze to the other side of the road and saw a group of kids—probably the same age as her—heading toward Sybarite. She was about to ignore them when she caught a glimpse of someone behind the said group. A tall, wellbuilt man clad in a smoky gray suit stood among the crowd. Although they were inches apart, she could feel the screaming authority in how he moved. He was utterly smokinglyhot from all angles!

Instinctively, Hope wanted to run away from them, but her legs could not move, to her dismay. It was as if her feet were cemented against the concrete floor. Just by staring at the man before, her whole body froze. On top of that, she could not fathom why she suddenly felt tense. Hope did her best to look away, but the man was persistent. She could feel him watching her, deliberately goading her to do the same.

"Hey." The man said upon approaching her in full pelt. Too near; she could die of nervousness.

'Since when did he arrive in Oakwood? I thought he was staying in Belldown for good. Of all people, why did I bump into him? And in this place? Shit!' Hope wanted to drop the questions, but she held them to herself.

"Uncle SStan?" She called out; her voice went octave. She was startled by his presence, for Pete's sake!

"Why are you here?" His voice was stern. In fact, Stan was shocked seeing Hope in this kind of place. What was the daughter of his unrelated brother doing in a bar? Stan couldn't help but get eager to know the answer for that question. Yet, he chose to remain silent as he waited for her response.

She straightened her back despite the chills crawling into her spine. "Um, I made an appointment with my classmates."

"Do you often come to Sybarite?"

"No, not really. It's just that... today's my classmate's birthday. I can't afford not to attend, so I'm here." She lied, making sure she wouldn't forget any details.

The thought of him asking about her whereabouts tingled and bothered her mind simultaneously. With him, every situation was always intimidating. Hope suddenly remembered those days she spent with the Williams. She grew up in their wings but just as a nuisance in the family. Hope decided to remain aloof and distant whenever they got the chance to talk to avoid bothering him. And this scene was too much to handle. How she wished the floor would swallow her whole. Damn.

"Well?" Stan hummed after a long stretch of silence.

"Yeah?" Hope was literally out of words; that was all she could mutter.

"What time will the party end?"

"I'm not sure, but maybe until dawn."

"Sure. Anyway, would you like to go up together?"

Hope shook her head and replied, "thanks, but my friend will be here soon."

Stan nodded and pulled something in his coat before handing her a black card. Her gaze dropped on it, then returned to him with questioning eyes.

"Here, take this." He reached for her hand and placed the card against her soft palm. "Use it and take whatever you want. Splurge and treat yourself well."

Hope became silent for a second. She has second thoughts about accepting it or not, but she wouldn't want to offend him in front of these people. It took her some time before she found her voice again.

"Thank you, Uncle." She said, smiling sheepishly.

"No worries. Enjoy the party, Hope."

And just like that, their conversation ended. He walked toward the stairs leading to the second floor of the bar. By the time he was finally out of her sight, Hope heaved a deep breath. A sigh of relief, matteroffactly. Then she looked at the card in her hand and smiled bitterly. For what it's worth, or whatever his drama was, she would not take the bait. With that in mind, she squeezed the card before throwing it in the trash bin. After a while, Sydney came rushing into her.

"Why did you hang up on me?" Sydney asked right away the time she saw her friend.

"I accidentally pressed the end call button."

Sydney nodded and didn't ask any more questions. They had been classmates for a few years until they became best friends. Though there were unlikely rumors about Hope's family, specifically about money issues, Sydney had no bad blood about it.

They headed onto the second floor, but Sydney stopped abruptly in front of a private room. She then turned to Hope, worry was painted all over her face,"The manager of Sybarite, Mr. Cage called, and told me that Tom Blackford was already waiting for you inside." Sydney let out a frustrated sigh and continued to ask, "Hope, do you think you can manage it and face him alone? Do you need me to call somebody for help? He's a monster, we know that."

"No need for that," said Hope with aplomb. "Knowing him, we both know calling for more people won't work anyway.

Sydney couldn't agree more. Tom Blackford and his gang had ties to prominent figures in Oakwood, including nobles. Nobody dared challenge their authority because they were obscenely wealthy and powerful.

"Then what should I do?" Her friend uttered, worried.

"There's no other way but to meet him in full flesh."

"Are you sure about this? I mean can you really? You do know life has many options, right?"

"Cut the crap, Sydney. I need to do this and clear the air once and for all."

After that, everyone fell silent as she drew their attention to her. Without wasting another minute, Hope rashly rummaged through the bar cart, grabbed out one pricey bottle, and slammed it directly against the douchebag's head. Yes, for the second time. Her chest heaved up and down while she looked down on him. Tom was knocked out and unconscious on the tiled floor. Tom Blackford's hooligans went uproar, throwing daggers at them.

Then someone from his gang screeched. "What are you doing? Call an ambulance! We need to take him to the hospital, fuckers!"

"What?! Are you nuts?" Sydney yanked her arms, pulling her into a secluded corner. "Why did you do that?!"

"I had no other choice. He deserved it, anyway."

While others were busy comforting their stupid boss, Sydney took that chance and willfully dragged her disoriented friend out. They left the bar and took a cab for a ride home. The following days were blurry, which Hope found quite unusual. It was as if nothing happened because none of Tom Blackford's minions went after her. Call her paranoid, but she felt like the deities were telling her to stay calm before the storm hit.

She shooed the negative thoughts rounding up in her head and relaxed for the rest of the day. But not until she received a call from her workplace. Mr. Cage, her boss, learned about what happened to result in her getting fired.

What's worse, two days later, she received a call of dismissal from the school. This was the thing she scared the most. The school administrator even asked her sympathetically if she offended someone, some powerful ones.

The world crumbled on her feet; she felt helpless. She lost her job, was kicked out of school, and had nowhere to go. At that point, Hope buzzed in her thoughts for a considerable amount of time, leaving her feeling quite depleted overall. As she knocked some sense into her head, an idea popped out. This was the only way to solve this. She knew they would not let her go so easily and this was the consequence she got.

She rushed to her workplace to seek help, asking for Tom's digits. It didn't take long before she finally phoned the latter. After three rings, she heard him speak from the other line.

"Who's this?"

"Hello, Mr. Blackford. This is Hope Lancaster and I want to have a word with you." She pleaded in a soft, almost inaudible voice.

Tom scowled sarcastically while biting into his cigar and fiddling with a lighter in his hand. The prey was in his hands again. Effortless. Hope could imagine his lips pulled taut into a nasty grin.

"What the fuck did you say? I can't hear you, brush." More sarcasm.

"I'm sorry for causing you trouble," she lamented, gripping the phone tightly. "I want to apologize to you in person. Are you free tonight?"

Tom didn't respond. Nothing but a long stretch of dead air though she knew he was still there. Frustration coiled into her gut; she squeezed her eyes shut. Empty and numb. That's what she felt as she stared at the blinking lights hung around the ceiling of Sybarite. She wanted to cry her heart out but even her tears won't fall. She couldn't help but wallow in her misery. She held tighter to the gadget and was about to drop the call when she heard him snicker.

"Sybarite, room 208. I want you there at 8 o'clock sharp next Tuesday night. No tagging along of dumb friends. Are we clear on that?"

"Noted. I'll be there on my own."

"You should be. Bye, harlot!"

His voice echoed in at the back of her head as if the bastard was actually there. Eventually, she busied herself thinking of what could've been. Tom chose that same place for a meet up which only proved how bad his intentions were.

Anxiety started to creep into her system. She was not a hypocrite; she was worried sick down to the roots of her hair. However, it was nothing compared to being dismissed from the school. He must have checked her background, so he immediately struck her weak points. Minutes passed before Sydney followed her there. In a snap, she told her everything.

"How about we try another tactic? I know there are a lot of ways to fix this issue."

She had already thought about what Sydney's outofthisworld ideas were, that's why she had to purposely decline her suggestions.

"I think you should head first to Mr. Cage and explain the situation to him. Then I'll call you later for the updates."

"Shut up! I'm coming with you." Sydney insisted but she refused.

"No, you can't. He made it clear. I have to be with anyone but myself."

More importantly, she wouldn't want her best friend to be involved in her stupidity. She had to protect Sydney and their friendship at all costs. That's what all she got after all. No matter how hard Sydney persuaded her, there was nothing she could do.

"Fine. Go all you want but promise me one thing. You have to come back to me in one piece." She gently held her hand and folded it in hers. "You have to call me; update me from time to time. If it doesn't work, I will go to the police. I don't believe that the police really can't control him!"

"Yeah, of course. I promise."

Sydney left after an hour. Came Tuesday night and Hope was at the height of disturbance. She bravely headed on to the site and took a deep breath before buzzing the doorbell. But then she noticed the slight opening in the door. What? Were they testing her? This bunch of assholes was getting on her nerves.

"Come in." Someone from back there prompted.

With trembling hands, she pushed the door open and was greeted by a dozen people inside. More likely half of his men were there; the filthy rich squad of the second generation who were also present last time. Once completely inside, they taunted her, booed, and catcalled like a shit.

"Look who's here! The girl with a brave heart who smashed you in the head and the very reason why we rushed you into the hospital!"

It was then she saw Tom Blackford sitting in the dark corner. He was like a king ready to punish the slave. Their eyes met but it was too dark to read his expression.

She had to deal with her actions; to own her mistake. She was there to the point of no return.

Hope stood at the doorway, unmoving. She just stared at the devil. The room was filled with a vile stench coming from the smoke and something she couldn't name. Tom urged her to come forward, which she did apathetically.

"I want to ask for your forgiveness. I'm sorry for hurting you and causing your gang trouble." She sincerely stated.

"I don't need your apology," he bit out. "Take off your clothes and move here on your knees. ."

Hope felt suffocated as soon as she heard his gibberish words. She's not a goddamn prostitute. For a moment, Hope was apprehensive, but she had to make amends. She'd better behave and negotiate with this piece of shit.

"I can't strip in front of you. How much more in front of all these people? But maybe I can serve you in another way. Please, forgive me."

Again, Tom pursed his mouth. However, one of his pesky members started to mock her.

"You hit our leader, and now you're acting cowardly? You only have two options to get out of this place and get that stupid forgiveness. Climb over, or you play a game with us. We will let you free if you have the guts to accept the challenge."

"What game? What do you mean?" Hope asked.

The only answer she got was a joyous scream from the crowd, indicating that they were aware of the game the guy was referring to. She could only hiss profanities at the back of her mind.

"This dumb would be the Apple carrier?!"

"No fucking way!"

"Set her in! This is going to be fun!" Another one from the crowd commented.

"I'm not putting my bet into that wench!"

"No. She's not worth it, anyway!"

"Yes, she is!" Tom stood up and grunted with great enthusiasm. "Bring that woman to me."

"Take your hands off of me! I can walk on my own." Hope shrieked. She was trying so hard to sound brave.

"Now, you must deal with the consequences of your actions." He laughed like a devil. She wanted to throw up in his face. "I have three tries. When I hit the apple, then you're free. If I don't, you sure know what would happen next." He continued.

The next thing she knew, she was already bound into a frame firmly attached to the wall. She felt like she was in a circus with an apple placed on her head. It was an absurd game on all levels! Hope gave her all to feign nervousness by acting cool in front of everybody. She was left with nothing but to fake it 'til she made it. She would not burst out crying in there and give them satisfaction.

'Fuck these creatures to hell!' She ought to herself as Tom threw the first dagger toward her. The blade almost hit her cheek, and her hair cascaded against her shoulders.

"That was close!" Tom squealed.

"Do it again! Do it again!"

"What? Do you want me to give her a cut?"

"Sure. That's better, boss!"

Tom pulled another piece and positioned himself to aim at the target. And when he released the blade, she did her best not to shut her eyes. She had to stay still and keep her acting natural, though, in reality, her insides were shaking in fear. Hope groaned inwardly just as the dagger went past her neck, scraping that sensitive part. She winced as she felt the searing pain again. Her eyes burned with tears, making her sight blurry. Yet, she still tried to contain herself.

"Please, stop this," Hope said, almost in a whisper.

"The little lamb is crying. That's what you get for aggravating me and entering the wolf's den." Tom burst into an evil laugh again. He was too adamant about punishing her.

To make the game more engaging, he initiated an insane suggestion. With that, he put on a blindfold before shooting another dagger. The motive was to scare the hell of her.

He was the game master and could play it even with closed eyes. It was the final blow, and the apple hit square, breaking into parts. Whereas Hope stayed still, the crowd roared in a boisterous chant.

The atmosphere became suffocating for Hope. People gathered around her like moths to the fire, took their mobile phones, and started to film her. She became a freaking show. The center of attraction. The entertainment.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Stan was with a group of friends in one of the VIP rooms on the third floor. He was fiddling with the cigarette between his fingers, and his expression was stoic. Stan was notorious for hiding his emotions, leaving him a mysterious impression.

"I heard you are going to the nightclub for the Williams Group?" Ashton Maxwell queried, grinning.

His voice was low yet controlled. "It's not certain yet."

"I can see that you're staying. What? Do you need to accomplish something here?"

Stan remained silent. He tapped the cigarette butt with his fingers, giving him a hard, serious look. Ashton was about to say something when they heard a loud thud followed by a scream. The guy was alarmed, but Stan kept his posture. He was so cool. He could freeze anything alive.

"What the hell was that? Is there an initiation happening somewhere?" Ashton kept on blabbering.

He then motioned for his bodyguard to check what was going on outside. Shortly, the bodyguard reentered and told them everything. With him was a phone.

"Look at what this jackass was doing to this girl. But why the hell engaged herself in this kind of game?"

"Give me that!" Ashton grabbed the phone and watched the video intently.

A gorgeous, youthful girl was standing behind a platform with an apple in her head as the target to be shot. And then his eyes shifted to the blindfolded man preparing to shoot arrows.

Shaking his head, Ashton cussed as he played it again. "Who the fuck organize this dangerous game?! They could kill this gorgeous lady in no time! Such beautiful DNA to lose."

"What happened?" The unbothered Stan dared to ask but didn't take a step forward.

Ashton handed him the phone. "Here. See for yourself."

Stan reached for the gadget and frowned once he saw the girl on the screen. He recognized that this was Hope Lancaster. The nerve of this girl to lie to him. She told him that she was here to attend a classmate's birthday party.

More so, he never knew someone not important would bother him—so much that it hurts.

Stan's lips pursed into a thin line. He was walking down memory lane as he recalled their conversation the last time they met. He was mad; he felt betrayed. Sure, he had no right to feel that way and should not be concerned about Hope. But he was undoubtedly worried about the young lady. With no preamble, he picked up his jacket and stood up.

"I'm going now," he said. He strode through the double brass doors in quick, long agitated strides.

"Where to?" Ashton curiously asked. "We're just getting started. Come on, don't spoil the mood."

Rolling his knuckles into balls, he answered, "I'm sorry, but I really have to go. There is something I need to work on with."

"Is that so? Okay, go fuck yourself somewhere. I'm gonna swim in these liquors until the moon falls and the sun rises."

Stan shot Ashton with a glare and left him in a flash. He dialed Hope's number and immediately hit the call button.

Meanwhile, at the entrance of Sybarite, Hope rested her back against the cold wall. She was damn exhausted from that stupid game of Tom. Pulling a deep breath, she closed her eyes, soothing and pacifying herself. Her phone kept ringing since earlier, but she was beaten to the nth level to even pick it up. Several dings and rings continuously passed before she dazedly answered the call.

"Hello, who is this?"

"Where are you?"

It was as if she woke up from a bad dream and a cold water was splashed into her face.

"Answer me, Hope. Tell me where you are right now?"

She was startled by his authoritative voice.

"I'm staying in one of the VIP rooms."

"Which one?"

"I'm still celebrating my classmate's birthday in the club. What's wrong?" She needed to divert the topic.

Silence enveloped them. All she could hear was a static mumble and his deep breaths brushing through her ears. Then, she heard the sound of a flicking lighter. She thought he was smoking while talking to her.

After a while, Stan spoke again. "I'm asking which room you were in. Tell me, and I'll be there in a few."

Hope contemplated all the possible reasons for his motives. But because she recently encountered the god of death, her head was currently a complete mess, making it difficult for her to even speak, let alone think. For wherever it may lead, she decided to be honest with him.

"I'm here at the entrance hall," she informed him.

"Don't go anywhere and wait for me there. This won't take long."

Stan ended the call and hollered down to the lower ground of the parking area. All the while, she waited for him to arrive. She had no idea why he was acting up like a concerned and protective Uncle at the moment.

Hope dropped her gaze onto the ground and anxiously waited for him to come over. As he was getting nearer, her heart beat rapidly inside her chest. Once she decided to look away, a pair of expensive loafers showed up before her. Although she was in deep apprehension, she managed to tilt her head and met his dark, luminous and seductive eyes. He was towering over her with his six flat height.

"I told you to ask for my help whenever you need to, didn't I?"

"Of course, I remember what you said. It's just that I don't want to disturb you with all my troubles."

Hope looked away and fixated her gaze on his footwear. She was sure her face was as bland and pale as vinegar now. She busied herself by screening his welldesigned trousers. The fabric was hugging his legs. It was perfectly ironed without an ounce of wrinkles, but even this made her stressed. Stan could only breathe out a frazzled sigh. Then he walked to his car only to realize that the pesky girl didn't follow him.

"Are you gonna stand there all night? Come here, Hope. Ride with me."

Hope averted her attention to him, but she was too shy to obey. "It's alright. I can go home on my own. Actually, I'm waiting for my friend to come over."

Stan gritted his teeth. Why was the little imp kept on resisting him? In the end, he collected her from where she stood and purposefully dragged her to his body.

"Get in the car, Hope. Don't make me repeat myself."

She stood there for a while before she got into the car. Hope kept a distance, at least an inch between them. She didn't want to make small talk, so she decided to ignore him. Instead, she busied herself looking at the city lights twinkling along the road. To be honest, she would want to crash the window glass and jump out of there.

Good thing Stan didn't interrogate her and just focused on driving. Out of nowhere, she felt the twinge of pain on her wounded neck. She was sweating profusely throughout the way.

She was disoriented as the pain heightened in full blast. Her eyes went heavy. She wanted to recline the chair and sleep. Her whole body was aching from where it shook. If not for Stan's presence, she would probably lose consciousness on the spot. She shook her head and stifled a sob. But then hot tears streamed from the corners of her eyes.

This time, she couldn't hold back her tears, and they fell against her lap one by one. She was trembling in pain and fatigue. Soon, she lost it. She fell into the darkness and dozed off.

By the time she woke up, she was in a very familiar place. She looked at the surroundings that were painted in white and sighed. It didn't need a genius for her to realize that she was in a hospital. She realized she was not alone because someone with a notsoapproachable aura was standing at the end of her bed.

"Finally, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"Better than last night. I'm more than okay now that I fully regained my strength." Her voice was soft and slightly brittle at the end. "Thank you, uncle. And I'm sorry, too, if I troubled you last night."

Stan answered her with a nod.

He threw the cigarette butt in the bin before walking toward her. Hope went a little nervous as she watched him getting closer to her.

Instantly, he framed her small face in his palm, forcing her to stare at him. Her eyes mirrored his deepset hazel brown ones. Next, he skimmed his thumb over her plump lips, rubbing them forcefully from one corner to another.

Hope held her breath. She didn't know what to do, the proper words to say, but her body reacted to his every touch.

"Uncle Stan?" She called him softly and confused.

His fingers sank deeper, holding her firmly into place. She could feel the pain burning against her skin, but she was under his control to even react. Stan squeezed her tighter, making the hollows of her cheeks droop.

"How could you be so irresponsible? Do you know you almost died in their hands last night?"

Her eyes grew wide. How did he know about that stupid charade with Tom? She didn't know how to react, just staring at him like a frightened bunny.

Luckily, somebody knocked on the door, saving her from this suffocating awkwardness. It was the doctor who was going to have her do some tests.

After some tests, the doctor let her rest. She closed her eyes, dozed off for a while and didn't notice when Uncle Stan left. Three days later, she was discharged from the hospital, but she had not seen her Uncle Stan since then.

On the same day, she called the school and was welcomed with good news. They informed her that she could continue her studies there. She was totally relieved and indulging herself in the beauty of her imagination when her phone dinged. Sydney was calling her.

"Finally, you answered the phone! Where have you been these past few days? I'd been looking for you since that day but to no avail." Sydney sat on the edge of her bed and huffed. "I heard your Uncle helped you while you're away. Tell me, did something bad happen to you?"

"How do you know that I was taken away by my uncle?"

"I kept calling you that day, but you weren't answering any of my calls. Then I received a message stating that he was your Uncle. But then I got scared and thought of him as a scammer or a sex predator who only wants to lurk."

"Silly you." Hope bantered from the other line.

"I'm not kidding, babe. If you only knew how scared I was, thinking that the person who took you was not your Uncle. I almost called the police!"

To cut it short and precise, she told her that her Uncle had sent her home that night. She pondered for a while and didn't say anything about her hospitalization.

"By the way, I got good news for you, for me as well."

"What is that?

"Well, I'm going back to school in two days."

"Wow! That's great." She took her hand and trapped it with hers. "But wait, was it really your Uncle who brought you back that day?"

There was a short pause before Hope answered yes. Sydney breathed a sigh of relief. Over the past three days, she had been contemplating about it more and more, which made her more terrified.

After the chat with Sydney, Hope got on the bus and was ready to go back to the house, yes, she wouldn't call it a "home". It didn't belong to her at all.

The bus station was a little far from the house, and Hope walked for a while before seeing the security dome perched just outside the house. She strolled past them and walked through the corridors that led to the villa. Hope hesitated for a second. But then she was already there, so she might as well force herself to get in.

As she was getting closer to her destination, a familiar voice chimed in her ears. Her heart blissfully throbbed as her steps slowed down. His mere voice made her thrilled and frightened at the same time.

It wasn't her intention to eavesdrop, but from where she was, the conversation was too clear to be heard.

"How long do you have to go back this time?" It was his grandfather.

"About ten days."

"What kept you that busy?"

Stan kept quiet. The old tyrant felt defeated as he couldn't get additional information from Stan.

"Son, when will you settle down?" The fondness in the latter's voice was evident.

Stan went still; he didn't say anything.

"You and Angel had been together for years. You guys are inseparable, so I don't get why you haven't tied the knot until now?" The old man frantically shook his head and went on. "This will be the last time I'm gonna say this; you have to choose a date and get engaged!"

Hearing this, Hope paced, almost ready to leave, but someone barged in and mentioned her name.

"Hope? Is that you?"

She was aware it was Auntie Jade—the head nanny of the Lancaster Family. Hope turned around and smiled at her. She then sprinted toward her, wrapping her in a gentle and warm embrace.

"Where have you been in the past days? I can't contact you on the phone. You got us worried."

"I'm sorry for making you worried. I'm not that important, so there's no need to fuss."

Hope pulled out from her arms and awkwardly made a sideways glance. She was itching to leave because she wouldn't want Stan to see her in this state. She was not in shape to explain or create idle conversations. She wanted to lay against the sheets and rest.

"Why are you here? It's not that I don't want to see you, but your grandpa won't allow you to come in."

"I am very much aware of that, Auntie Jade. So, yeah, I'm heading out now. Goodbye."

"Wait! Do you know that Ella and Robert are back?"

Auntie Jade was referring to her halfsiblings. Truth be told, she was shocked to hear about their comeback.

Sure, she understood what the old lady meant. They were a harmonious family, and as an illegitimate child, it was best for her to hide in their shadows. She had no intention of ruining their happiness.

Eventually, she politely excused herself and trudged back to her room in the east wing of the villa. She lay on the bed but couldn't fall asleep. She was sulking when her stomach crumbled. Without hesitation, she walked out of her room and went to the kitchen to find something to eat. She reached the dining room, wherein she found the brat Ella having tantrums.

"I don't understand why you let her set foot here again! Dad, we're already here, me and my brother, so there's no use for that outsider to stay here. Can't we celebrate Mom's birthday in peace?"

In a stern voice, Richard replied, "Hope had nowhere to go. Let her stay for a while."

Ella snorted with a laugh. "And you think Mom would be glad on her big day having that bitch around? Or maybe you also wanted to invite her mother to celebrate with us?"

"Watch your mouth, lady," her father warned.

But Ella wouldn't stop. "Oh, I almost forgot, her mother who made my mom depressed before, had already died."

"Ella!" Elizabeth's voice wafted in the air. She's Richard's wife and Ella and Robert's mother. She turned her head and noticed Hope was there. Her expression changed that instant.

"Hope?" Her voice sounded gentle and serene.

Hope acknowledged Elizabeth's presence with a polite nod. "My classmate is celebrating her birthday this week, so I'd be staying at her house for a while."

Richard's forehead hunkered but didn't comment.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, followed her.

'Hope, don't go. Please stay with us for another day. You don't have to leave at this hour."

"It's okay, Auntie."

Hope readied her things and went out, only to realize that it was too late to travel back. It was not safe for her age to roam the streets at that ungodly hour. With her backpack on, she filled her lungs with air and hopped on. She wanted to call Sydney, however, Sydney was also not in a good state, she had a violent father and a sick mother. So it was not ok for her to sleep at Sydney's house.

She wandered around that wealthy road for almost an hour. It's an exclusive village for prominent people, and taxis were very random to pass by. Aside from that, she doesn't have much money with her. Over the years, the Lancaster family seldom gave her money, that was also why she needed to work as a

Waitress to earn some money.

Hope felt hapless. She looked up at the dark sky and smiled bitterly. How many times would she have to experience this nightmare? She waited for hours, yet there was no cab passing by. Then out of nowhere, a familiar vehicle suddenly appeared. The auto was black and fast like a phantom in the night.

It drifted, tires screeching against the road before halting in front of her. The window in the driver's seat rolled down, giving her a good view of his gorgeous aura. With the help of lights from the lamp posts, Hope saw his grim and serious face.

"Uncle Stan," she mumbled.

“Where are you going at this hour?”

Hope swallowed the lump in her throat and spoke, “I’ll just visit a classmate.”

“Tell me the truth,” Stan uttered in a strong and demanding voice.

“I’m telling you the truth,” she answered despite feeling constricted and oppressed with her uncle’s mad aura encircled around her.

“What are you going to do there, then?”

Hope stood still as she kept her mouth shut.

Stan looked intently at Hope before speaking, “Which classmate’s house are you going to? I’ll take you there.”

“I already called a taxi. The driver’s on his way here.”

“Get in the car.” Stan’s tone remained calm and steady, but Hope knew the opposite was underneath his facade. “You can’t get a taxi so late.”

Hope gripped her backpack tightly, refusing to obey her uncle.

“Get in the car, Hope,” Stan repeated with finality in his voice.

Feeling defeated, Hope walked towards the passenger seat and opened its door. She stood there momentarily, staring at the parked black cheetah with the phone in one hand and the backpack draped over her shoulders.

Hope finally climbed into the passenger seat. As they drove silently, Hope waited for him to vocalize his question about where she was going, but none came.

To break the deafening silence, Hope spoke softly, “Uncle, I’ll go to my classmate’s house. You can just drop me off Sycamore Way.”

Hope’s plead met a deaf ear as Stan ignored her. The car’s interior was eerily silent, but Hope’s eyes traveled between her uncle and the road as she saw Stan was deep in his thoughts as if he was contemplating something.

She wanted to ask whether Stan had informed her grandfather about her trip to Sybarite, but nothing came out of her lips.

She could see her uncle’s side profile as she thought about asking her question or not. His face was sharp and sleek, like a chisel that could cut fingers. His right hand clutched the steering wheel while he stretched the other out of the window.

The silence ended when they reached the crossroads where Stan suddenly whispered, “I was drunk that night….”

Hope's entire body became rigid, and her heart beat rapidly.

Stan didn't even say which night he was talking about, but Hope knew he wasn't referring to the night he saw her with Tom Blackford. It was the night when he had returned to Oakwood.

Hope interrupted her uncle's speech without waiting for him to finish. "I'm not the one who took you upstairs that night."

Stan grimaced. His face was obscured by darkness. The cigarette in his mouth oozed with smoke as he leaned back and turned his dark gaze toward Hope.

Hope tried to calm her fastening heartbeat. She was undoubtedly terrified, especially with Stan fondling his cigarettes and staring at her as if he were measuring the situation carefully.

She released a heavy breath when Stan diverted his gaze back to the road.

Hope, worried about her uncle's reaction, spoke, "Uncle, I heard you're getting married."

Stan's thin lips rose slightly, but his tone remained the same. "You care about my affairs?"

The question seemed innocent to Hope, but she felt his words contained a hidden meaning that only he could decipher.

"I'm sorry. I just happened to overhear it. I'm not interested in your relationship," she mumbled in a low voice.

Stan rhythmically tapped the steering wheel with his delicate fingers, but he said nothing, which made Hope sigh a relief.

"Uncle, you can drop me off at the Belldown Road," Hope stated when they passed Sycamore Way, where she first intended to be dropped off.

Stan ignored her. "Stay at my place for tonight."

"Don't bother, Uncle," she immediately uttered. "My friend and I are supposed to meet here. You can just drop me off at Belldown Road."

Stan steered his car to the side of the road, taking control of the wheel. He locked it with a faint 'pop' and then turned to face Hope.

"Do you think you can lie to my face?"

All the blood on Hope's face drained.

Hope cleared her throat and reasoned, "I'm not lying, Uncle! I did set up a meeting with my classmates on this road."

She handed the phone to Stan as she talked. The screen showed the chat logs between her and Sydney, the words' Meet in Belldown Road' scrawled across the top. She told Sydney to act with her on the chat in advance.

Hope wished her uncle would not notice that she deleted some of their messages and only left the important ones.

Stan could not help but stare at Hope and notice how she acted like an obedient student. No trace of rebelliousness was evident. Her eyes were so pure, like a child who made all of her family proud because of her goodness.

Hope held out her phone for a long time; Stan didn't say anything, but she did see his eyes roaming around the screen, reading. Feeling embarrassed, Hope placed the phone back in her pocket; her palms were drenched in sweat.

As their drive resumed, Hope had a hunch that Stan did not inform their family about her trip to Sybarite. Hope was certain that Elizabeth would've said something about it if he had.

Still worried, Hope turned to her uncle. "Uncle, what happened last time was my fault. Please, I beg you, don't tell Grandpa about Sybarite," she pleaded with her shaking voice.

Stan remained silent. She could not get an answer or explanation out of him, which made her frustrated.

Eventually, the two of them arrived at Stan's house in the city. Stan went out of the car, and Hope followed, wanting to see more of the house, which looked more like an apartment complex. Its size made it look like it was a house for wealthy people.

"I purchased this property several years ago. I've never lived here, but housekeepers regularly come and go for maintenance," Stan stated as he watched Hope get her bag in the backseat.

Hope swung around and replied, "Thank you, Uncle," she murmured.

The two of them made their way toward the house, with Stan in the lead and Hope following.

"Is there anything else you need?" he asked as they both took a few more steps.

Hope shook her head. "No, I've got everything I need."

Stan nodded slowly. "Let me know if you need anything."

The two of them stepped into the elevator, and silence immediately filled the room when the door slammed shut. Stan stood tall and straight. His years in the army helped him maintain an explicit stance.

He glanced at Hope, standing still, and then the situation returned to him.

"Why did you leave your house so late at night?" he asked.

Stan's words may have expressed elderly care for her, but Hope could not help but feel touched.

However, the realization that her father, Richard, did not even consider letting her stay in their house dawned on her. It was already late in the evening, and there was also no cab service nearby. The closest was the bus stop, which would roughly take forty minutes. Another thing was she was afraid of the dark.

Besides, she had no idea where to go, after all. It was apparent that Richard sided with his legitimate children. He believed everything they said to him.

Hope suddenly felt sad because of her thoughts of what happened with her socalled father.

Hope bit her bottom lip as Stan opened the door using a key from his pocket. She watched him turn the light on and open the door wider for her to come through.

With hesitation, Hope entered and discovered that it was a onebedroom house. The room only had one bed, a large television area, a table, and a softlooking couch.

It didn't occur to her that she would share one bed with her uncle. The thought only made her chest fill with dread, and her heart beat faster.

"Make yourself comfortable," Stan stated as he removed his coat and slid the keys down the table. "Did you eat dinner already?"

Hope nodded sheepishly, asking, "Uncle, if you're lending me your bed, where will you sleep?"

Stan froze in the middle of him, removing his cufflinks. He originally intended to watch over Hope by sleeping on the couch. But seeing her scared expression, he decided otherwise.

"I am staying somewhere else." Stan smiled at Hope to make her feel relieved.

He grabbed his business card from his pocket and gave it to Hope. "Call me if you need anything."

"Okay…." Hope uttered while staring at Stan's name on the paper.

Hope didn't breathe a sigh of relief until Stan left. She was anxious about sharing a bed or room with her uncle, but thankfully, she didn't have to.

She stared at the paper and started saving her uncle's number. She would need it in case of emergency.

Hope could not sleep that night because she kept thinking about Stan, and after a while, her mind drifted towards her father, Richard. She felt uncomfortable, especially since she was sleeping in Stan’s bed.

However, her discomfort lulled her to sleep later on. She had no other choice but to rest since she still had classes to attend.

Hope found herself fumbling for her phone the next day to message Stan. She figured it was right to inform him since she was staying at his house.

She settled for a message saying, ‘I’m already at school.’

Hope planned on turning her phone off after that message to evade his call and message. However, she had no idea that Stan was already awake, and just as she sent her text, Stan’s name popped out of her screen, calling her.

It took Hope a moment to answer the call with a low voice, “Yes?”

“You’re already at school?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed.

“Okay. For the time being, you don’t have to worry about Tom.” The sudden mention of Tom’s name stunned Hope. She didn’t expect Stan to ease her worries about Tom.

“Just concentrate on your studies,” Stan stated huskily.

A period of silence fell over Hope. She knew Stan remembered the events of that night, but she didn’t know that he was still looming over it.

“Okay…” Hope said, and since she was afraid of what Stan might say further, she immediately added, “I’m going to be late for class. I have to go.”

“Alright. Take your classes seriously.” And the sound of Stan’s deep voice was the last thing Hope heard before heading to her classes.

“Who were you just talking to?” Ashton Maxwell gazed at Stan as he sipped his usual chamomile tea.

The two were spending their morning in a teashop after spending a night at a KTV bar. After Stan left Hope last night, he went to the basement of the building to spend his night alone. Fortunately, Ashton called and claimed he was at the nearby KTV, urging him to come.

Ashton and Stan had spent their childhood together, their hobbies intertwined, so when Ashton called him, Stan did not hesitate to come.

That night, they talked about Oakwood’s economic status and the latest projects that Ashton invested in, such as railroads and bridges. It was a long night, but Stan couldn’t sleep, and Ashton wanted breakfast, so they decided to grab a quick cup of tea.

Stan turned to Ashton after hanging up the phone. “That was my brother’s daughter,” he formally answered.

“Ella?” Ashton asked with his brow raised.

Stan frowned but slowly uttered, “It was Hope.”

Ashton’s brows raised even more as if he recalled who Hope was. “That’s the girl who was nearly shot by Tom, right?”

“Yes, that’s her.”

Stan was not surprised that Ashton forgot about Hope immediately. Ashton didn’t know Hope was part of the Lancaster family until that night. However, Stan knew that Ashton was aware of Richard’s cheating incidents. Because Richard wanted to divorce Elizabeth at that time, many of their acquaintances were trying to stick their noses into the Lancaster’s business.

In a social circle like theirs, illegitimate daughters like Hope always have a hard time, even if they are recognized as part of the family. Stan knew that the case would be different if Hope were a boy. There was always discrimination between sons and daughters in their society.

“Are you coming back this time to arrange your marriage with Hailey?” Stan asked Ashton to change the uncomfortable subject.

Hope was known as the illegitimate daughter of the Lancasters, and that reason was enough for students to hate her shamelessly. She never wanted to be an illegitimate daughter, but the people around her acted like it was her fault.

“Hope…” a girl in their uniform sneered, “What a funny name for someone so hopeless and helpless.”

Hope was walking through the corridors of their school when she saw Sofia Taylor. Sofia was one of the campus bullies. She always vented her frustrations toward Hope, saying that illegitimate children like her deserved it.

Hope, wanting to avoid trouble, took a detour to the classroom. However, as she passed the laboratory, someone grabbed her by the collar and pulled her towards the back of the building.

“Oh, look, little Hope is getting brave. She didn’t run away this time,” a sickly sweet voice said, but Hope’s eyes went to Sofia’s face.

Hope closed her eyes when Sofia kicked her through the chest. She coiled her body to the ground. It took a long time before she could collect her breath.

“Aw, she’s cute. She doesn’t even utter a word when kicked. She doesn’t hide away anymore, either,” another voice commented. “Why aren’t you hiding, Hope? Why didn’t you run away?”

Hope didn’t move an inch. Instead, she locked eyes with Sofia, whose eyes were filled with rage when she saw that Hope did not even utter a single word.

Hope knew what Sofia was going through. She heard it from the whispers of the other students. Sofia’s father cheated on her mother and had a son with the mistress.

Knowing their society, Hope knew that the illegitimate son would be more favored than Sofia.

Still, Hope knew that what Sofia was doing was an injustice. Even if Hope were not doing anything wrong, Sofia would always find a way to hurt her, saying it was all for Ella. Sofia and Ella were good friends, but Hope knew that it was not the reason why Sofia kept on bullying her.

Still, Hope felt unlucky. She did badly on her entrance exams on purpose to avoid attending the same school as Ella and Robert, but she didn’t expect Sofia to be here.

“Talk, you little shit! Why aren’t you speaking? Why aren’t you hiding? Fuck!”

Hope curled even more on the ground, covering the places that could easily be kicked. Cold sweat gradually broke on her body, but she gritted her teeth and remained silent, urging herself to soldier through the situation.

Fingernails dug through her flesh, and at that moment, Hope prayed. She prayed for someone to interfere. She prayed for someone to save her.

She didn’t know how long it took. She only remembered that someone shouted from far away, saying someone was coming. After that, the rush of feet running away echoed in her ears, and Sofia’s words said Hope should die.

When Hope returned, she found Sofia talking to her friends casually, as if she didn’t just bully a person. Their gazes met, and Sofia immediately gave her a wicked grin.

Hope felt her body tremble at the interaction, but she chose to sit quietly on her chair. She tried to hide her pain, but a soft groan escaped her lips after a few moments, and Sydney turned to her.

Sydney didn’t question her until Sofia and the others had gone out after class. “Did they hit you again?”

Hope remained motionless in her position, and Sydney’s eyes started to warm with impending tears.

“Do you need some medicine or what?” Sydney murmured.

“No, don’t talk to me. They might see you,” Hope whispered in return as she tried to put some distance in between them.

At school, Sydney was afraid to be seen hanging around Hope. Of course, Hope didn’t take it negatively. She knew that Sydney was just trying to play it safe since their school was like a tiny social club wherein, once excluded, a person’s life would be ruined.

Hope didn’t want that kind of exiled life for Sydney.

“Only a month left….” Sydney’s voice choked. “Everything will be fine once you leave here, Hope. You must do well on the exam and leave this place.”

That night, Hope caught a fever due to the brutal beating she received from her bullies. Her body was aching all over when she went to school. She had a few hours of free time in between classes, and she wanted to spend it off to sleep.

However, Stan’s house was far, so Hope decided to rent a computer in the nearby Internet cafe and sleep in front of it. It was the perfect spot for her since the room was cold, and she could listen to music as she slept.

She didn’t notice that a man in a black car saw her and was a bit surprised. After consideration, the man dialed a number and it was picked up quickly.

"Hello?" a man's deep voice coming from the other side.

"Guess who I saw."

...

With nonchalance, Hope decided to enter the cafe and sleep her fever off.

Loud rings from her phone interrupted her rest. Still dizzy from her fever, Hope answered the call without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?” she spoke in a weak voice.

A deep voice coated her ears. “Where are you?”

Hope tensed up as she recognized the slumber voice at the other end of the line.

After a few moments, she whispered, “I’m at school. I’m hanging out with my classmates. Why?”

“Which internet cafe are you in?” Stan straightforwardly asked.

Unable to hide her surprise, Hope pursed her lips before finally accepting defeat and giving Stan the address.

“Alright. Wait for me. I’ll get you.”

Hope gathered what’s left of her sanity before heading outside to meet with her uncle. She didn’t want to spend so much time with him; she didn’t want to make mistakes.

She immediately saw Stan’s car when she went outside. It stopped a few inches away from where she stood. Stan immediately got out of the car and made his way toward her.

“You’re alone here, huh?” he asked as if he knew she was lying when she said she was hanging out with her classmates.

“Yes.” Hope released a heavy breath.

Stan just stood there, staring at her as if she was a puzzle he needed to solve. She didn’t even dare look at him. Her eyes only stared at his trousered legs with her head bent down.

Her throat rolled for a moment before speaking faintly, “Uncle, I’m sorry. I just wanted to check if this place is good. I didn’t plan on staying here for a long time.”

Stan didn’t utter a word. He bent down and placed his warm fingers below Hope’s chin, lifting them so their eyes would meet.

Hope felt like all air was being sucked out of her chest as she stared at him back.

“If you continuously lie to my face to avoid me, Hope, I swear to you, I will make all your fears and worries come true,” he uttered with both threat and gentleness.

As Stan drove, Hope recognized the roads they passed by. It was the same road they drove by yesterday, and in front of them was the Halcyon community where Stan’s house resides.

The two didn’t utter a single word even when they got out of the car, stepped into the elevator, and got inside Stan’s house. Hope silently followed, finally feeling all of her energy depleted because of the fever.

She didn’t feel the pain when resting at the internet cafe, but after walking for a few minutes, she could already feel the cold sweat trickling down her skin.

“Sit comfortably,” Stan ordered, and Hope quietly obliged.

She sat on the soft couch while Stan went to the drawer and took out a pill box filled with the medicine of various types. He pulled out a few antipyretics and handed them to her.

“Take this. We’ll talk afterward,” he said in a serious and deep voice.

Hope was stunned when Stan took the medicine box and brought a glass of water over while on his way. She was given the pills and the water, which she took a bit slower than usual.

She was a little nervous, especially when Stan said he wanted to talk to her. It also didn't help that he was watching her as she drank the half glass of water together with the medicine.

Stan waited for her to finish drinking the medicine and water before putting the items away. In the kitchen, Hope heard the sound of running water which meant that Stan was washing the glass she used.

After a couple of minutes, Stan returned and directly sat on the couch where Hope sat. She could not help but swallow the lump in her throat as butterflies of nervousness filled her chest.

Stan sat up straight, his dark eyes serene but profound. "Were you planning to sleep overnight in an Internet cafe?"

Hope bit her lip, drew her lashes lower, and clenched her fists together. Her throat was dry and scratchy from the fever, and her voice was little and soft when she spoke, "No."

"You have a fever, don't you know?" Stan kept looking at her.

"I know," Hope croaked out, wanting to be sarcastic because how could she not know that she had a fever?

"Did my brother just let you walk outdoors by yourself?"

Hope's eyes suddenly warmed with tears at the mention of her father. However, the pain of remembering was not as painful as Sofia's kick to her spine.

"It's okay. It's just that I have some stuff to do outside these days, and I'm going to stay at my classmate's house for a few days," Hope said, with her eyes sore from holding back tears.

"Were you planning to come home after checking out that cafe?" Stan's steady streams of questions continued as Hope fumbled for answers.

"Yes. Of course."

"How many days will you stay at your classmate's house?" Stan inquired with a deep, calculating look in his eyes.

Hope could not think why Stan was interested in whether she lived with a classmate. Her father wasn't even interested in her leaving their house. However, one reason came to mind after a couple of seconds. Elizabeth's birthday was three days away.

Her daughter, Ella, made it clear that they didn't want Hope's presence at the upcoming birthday celebration. Therefore, she felt more determined not to return to the Lancasters immediately.

"A total of six days, including today," Hope replied.

"Then you'll stay here for six days."

Hope's eyes widened while glancing at him, her heart skipping a beat and her heartstrings tightening. "But…"

But before she could finish, Stan interrupted, "I will stay here with you for a few days. You can sleep on the bed, and I'll take the couch. I will return every day after work."

"But I can stay with my classmates..." Hope had a string in her heart and didn't want to live at Stan's house with him at all. She felt like this was a huge mistake. If she could get out of this mistake through a lie, then she's willing to lie to Stan again.

"Hope," Stan added in a deep voice. "Do you think I don't know you're lying?"

Hope was unsure if it was because of her medicine, but her body was sweating in layers. She remembered what Stan said at the Internet cafe's entryway about her fears and worries coming to life if she lied again.

Hope pursed her lips, not daring to look Stan in the eyes.

She finally nodded after a couple of quiet seconds.

"Take your temperature first, and then have something to eat," Stan said as he removed a thermometer from his suitcase and handed it to Hope.

Hope stretched out, took the thermometer, clipped it, and sat on the sofa. She opened her mouth and was about to say something when Stan's phone rang.

Stan looked down, picked up the phone, and walked away; Hope also heard him ask, "Angel?" on the other end of the phone.

The other side was at a loss for words, so he grimaced and muttered, "Don't worry."

He hardly spoke and just listened, occasionally muttering, "hmm." After a long conversation, he hung up the phone.

Hope didn't know why her heart was racing so fast. She pursed her dry lips, and when Stan hung up the phone and turned back, she tentatively asked, "Uncle, was that Angel?"

Stan came to a halt and glanced down at Hope, and her eyes were so deep and calm that he couldn't help but ask, "Are you anxious about my marriage?"

Hope was equally concerned. All she wanted was for his uncle to marry soon. But she didn't dare to say it and was constantly afraid that Stan would say something much more impossible to deny if she tried again.

Stan stared at her for a long time. Without waiting for her reaction, he ignored her and reached out to her. Hope also responded by handing him the thermometer.

Stan looked at it and stated, "You're still running a lowgrade fever. You should sleep now and rest."

Hope sighed, a little uncomfortable, and said, "If you want to sleep in the bedroom, Uncle, I won't mind. I can just sleep on the couch."

Stan stood up. He should be around 1.8 meters tall. Standing in front of Hope, the lights cut diagonally from behind him, highlighting his deep facial features. "No. Just sleep there."

Hope remained silent for a moment and said nothing. She walked right toward the bed and finally felt the relief of lying on a soft mattress.

Logically, no one has lived in this house ever since it was bought. Stan only visited a few days a year, yet all the quilts have been washed. There was no foul smell, either. Everything smelled fresh and comfortable.

However, even after she had fallen into bed and covered the quilt, Hope appeared to smell a distinct sweet scent that belonged to Stan.

...

Stan was taking a smoke while standing in front of the floortoceiling window.

After some time, his phone rang, and he opened it up to see a message from Ashton Maxwell saying, "How are things going? Did you manage to catch your little niece?"

Stan ignored his message and just turned off the phone.

Hope was not able to sleep well that night. She felt uncomfortable that Stan, the owner of the bed she was lying in, was sleeping on the couch. She also couldn't fathom the idea that they were close to one another.

She woke up late because of her loud mind, and Stan was already waiting for her at the table when she woke up. The table was filled with eggs, porridge, loaves of bread, and a milk pitcher.

Instead of being in awe, Hope felt unsure and afraid because of their odd situation.

"Uncle," she called.

Stan stared at her with his deep, almost pure black eyes, as if he could cut up her skin and peer within her, and said with a cold voice, "Come and eat your breakfast after you wash yourself up."

Hope finished washing up and sat quietly, just almost beside him. Stan immediately handed her the thermometer once more and instructed her to take her temperature first.

Hope measured it, and the temperature has reduced. Her fever was officially gone.

Hope knew Stan made an effort to prepare her breakfast, and she couldn't let it go to waste. So, instead of always rejecting Stan's offers, Hope started to eat.

Stan ate his breakfast quickly and then waited for her to finish eating. She attempted to eat her breakfast quicker since she felt uncomfortable with Stan's eyes on her.

"I'll pick you up after school," Stan suddenly said.

Hope was shocked and raised her head to gaze at him. She wanted to say no, but as she met Stan's stare, she thought she couldn't refuse his offer. Again.

Hope's body was tense as she leaned against the car door on the way to school. She felt suffocated, with Stan only a few feet away.

"Call me if you need anything," Stan stated as she was about to get out of the car.

He has repeatedly stated this, but Hope answered, "Okay."

It looked like Stan didn't buy Hope's answer. His brows were knotted as if he was calculating and analyzing Hope's movements.

Hope felt terrified of him. Not because she thought Stan would hurt her, but because Stan would always say something about that drunken night that would catch her off guard.

For a moment, Stan remained silent. Seeing her scared expression, she eventually said nothing and slammed the latch open with a smash. Hope exhaled a sigh of relief as she walked away from the car and Stan.

HOPE WENT TO school, but she never attended any of her classes. She feared Sofia might bully her again. Sofia was not the type to bully her for a day only. It would usually take days before Sofia put her attention somewhere other than Hope.

But for a couple of days, Sofia was Hope's worst nightmare.

Hope decided not to go to her classroom immediately until the bell rang, but Sofia and Hope's eyes met when she entered the room.

Hope could also feel Sofia's gaze on her during class.

She lowered her head, trying to appear as small as possible. She also didn't dare to use the restroom during recess since she feared Sofia might be waiting for her. She only went to the bathroom while there were many people, hoping Sofia won't be able to find her.

She ignored what the teacher was saying all day, her ears ringing from fear.

Hope came out of the bathroom before the last morning lesson but ran into Sofia and her friends. The latter sent her a cold glance, and Hope pivoted to make room for the bully.

Hope didn't breathe a sigh of relief and rushed back to the classroom until Sofia entered the lavatory.

Once she returned to her seat, Hope felt a tug on her clothes, only to find Sydney's worried and anxious expression. Sydney slipped a small note in front of her, and Hope didn't dare to open the note immediately, thinking that someone might have been watching them.

She only opened it when the homeroom teacher gave them tasks to finish.

The only note had a few words scribbled on them, saying, "RUN AFTER SCHOOL!"

Hope froze as she stared at the note. It took her a few seconds before she finally came to her senses and shredded the note into pieces.

Hope didn't hear anything in her last two classes. Her body was drenched in cold sweat as she thought of being beaten again.

When the classes ended, she hurried downstairs with her school bag on her back, but she was grabbed and carried to the back of the abandoned laboratory building before she could leave.

A man shoved her against the wall, her head slamming against it, making her eyes see stars and blackness altogether. Her vision was recovering when she noticed Sofia approaching.

"You should've run faster."

Hope held her head, and she couldn't say anything because she couldn't overcome the pain of being shoved against the wall.

"I heard you like seducing men. Should I give you pleasure? What do you think?" a man's voice said, every word laced with maliciousness.

"Nah. Let's just break her face."

Hope didn't say anything. She acted as if no one was talking to her. It was one of her coping mechanisms and a way for her to act tough despite feeling helpless all the time.

Hope saw someone tug at Sofia's sleeves.

The girl looked worried when she spoke, "Hey, don't do it. Anything might happen by then."

Sofia went silent, thinking, before finally coming to a halt. Sofia was nervous about her grades and the fact that she might not graduate, and her fear and anxiety about the future made her want to vent even more.

However, instead of listening to rational reasoning, Sofia started to give Hope tiny slaps and kicks. Unlike the other beatings, the attack was more vicious.

She could almost feel her bones breaking and flesh turning violet from the punches she had just received. But the physical pain was nothing compared to her emotional pain.

She felt so small, so utterly unimportant, weak, and pathetic.

The beatings only stopped when Sofia was satisfied and left her alone. It was already dark when Hope recovered from the ground. Her knees felt weak as she stood up. She could also feel the trembling in her hands as she grabbed her phone which was continuously ringing.

Hope then started to walk towards the girls' lavatory. She always brought extra clothes in her suitcase and fumbled to the toilet to change. She washed her face, only to discover a green patch on her cheeks.

Her phone rang again as she was leaving the restroom. Hope didn't need to see the caller ID to figure out who it was. But she refused to take it.

She tucked her phone into her backpack, determined to avoid anyone, especially her Uncle Stan.

But before she could close the zipper, she heard a voice say, "Hope!"