Chapter 5

Mother and daughter fell into a heavy silence.

Seven years ago, they'd been welcomed back into the sprawling Sinclair family with smiles all around, but how much of it had been genuine was hard to say.

To the family, after all, Diane's divorce and subsequent return—dragging along an extra mouth to feed—simply meant one more person to split the inheritance with. Over the years, there'd been no shortage of maneuvering against them, some subtle, some not.

In the end, it had only ever been the two of them, mother and daughter, leaning on each other to survive.

Fortunately, Naomi had proven herself more than capable, fighting her way to real standing within a family that would otherwise have eaten her alive—otherwise, there was no telling whether their fortunes would have turned out any better than before.

Which was exactly why the two of them cherished what little family they had left all the more.

They could hardly imagine how much their boy had suffered over the years, and the thought alone was enough to leave them aching, which was exactly why they were so eager to see him again as soon as possible.

That was why, upon learning that he'd been accepted to Ashford University, they'd chosen this particular time to come wait at the school gates, hoping for a glimpse of him.

They owed him so much these past years. They had to make it up to him, somehow.

Watching her mother still quietly wiping away tears, Naomi sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Mom, I believe Anthony will understand what we went through, especially since he was always such a sweet, thoughtful kid growing up, and—"

"You don't understand, sweetheart." Diane shook her head, eyes brimming. "What I did to Anthony can never be undone. No matter how furious he is with me when we meet, he'd have every right to be."

Naomi's nose stung at that. She turned her head away quickly, trying to hide how close she was to breaking down.

The truth was, whatever her mother had felt forced to decide back then, she'd done it for Naomi's sake. She'd already given everything a mother could possibly give.

If anyone owed Anthony a real debt, it was Naomi herself.

Because, in a sense, she was the one who had "killed" him with her own hands.

Back then, her little brother—still in elementary school—had reached out to her in absolute desperation, begging for help. And she had turned and walked away as though she hadn't seen him at all.

Even now, as a multi-millionaire businesswoman in her own right, every time Naomi thought back to that particular afternoon, to that devastated, hopeless little boy, an unbearable ache still gripped her chest.

Maybe, out of everyone in the world, she was the person her brother hated most.

The moment that thought crossed her mind, Naomi happened to glance out the car window.

And it was that single glance that finally broke through the composure she'd been holding onto—her eyes instantly welling with tears.

Across the crosswalk, she saw a tall, painfully thin figure walking toward them at an unhurried pace. He glanced her way, almost by accident, then turned and disappeared quickly into the campus.

That figure was so achingly familiar to her.

And yet, the moment their eyes had met, the blankness and hollowness she'd seen in them had felt like something belonging to a total stranger.

Naomi went pale, her whole body trembling.

"Mom, I—I just saw Anthony! He's... he's gotten so much taller. And thinner too. He's almost... almost unrecognizable..."

...

"Achoo!"

Inside the lecture building, Anthony sneezed unexpectedly.

A cold, in the middle of summer?

Anthony felt mildly surprised. Given his near-obsessive attention to his own physical health, this stirred a flicker of wariness in him, and he decided he'd take some medicine as a precaution once he got home.

Not that he was afraid of dying. To someone who'd already made peace with the idea of death, what was there left to fear?

It was only that, with a few tasks still left unfinished, he genuinely didn't want to give up halfway through.

Besides, keeping this body in working order was an important part of the plan.

Following the directions on his admission letter, Anthony had no trouble finding the multimedia classroom assigned to his major.

He'd been placed in the Semiconductor Engineering program at Ashford, a department that ranked among the very best in the country, with solid career prospects to boot—though for him, prospects weren't really something worth considering.

Still, out of a promise he'd made to someone, Anthony had chosen to enroll after all, and had decided to give college life a modest try before he ended things.

Even so, he didn't hold out much hope for it.

To him, relationships with other people were nothing but a burden.

Whether out of some subconscious instinct to protect others, or simply because he found it hard to empathize with people, Anthony had long believed that someone like him—a walking bad omen—was better off staying out of other people's lives.

He personally didn't mind it. He'd never felt lonely, and he'd long since gotten used to being on his own.

Even if, on the day he finally ended his life, he died alone in some forgotten corner with no one around to notice, he wouldn't hold it against anyone or wallow in self-pity over it.

At the end of the day, Anthony believed all of this was exactly what he deserved.

So the only thing worth worrying about was whether the people who got tangled up with him might end up getting hurt because of it. Especially since he knew full well that no one would ever actually want to be friends with someone like him.

With that thought, Anthony stepped into the classroom.

The moment they noticed someone walking in, plenty of eyes turned instinctively in his direction.

The guys lost interest almost immediately, but quite a few of the girls kept sneaking glances at him, quickly looking away each time.

Feeling the assorted stares directed his way, Anthony kept his expression neutral. He had no idea why these girls seemed to be looking at him like he was some kind of oddity, but he doubted it meant anything good.

It couldn't possibly be that they thought he was good-looking and wanted a second look.

That kind of strange scrutiny was something he'd encountered plenty of times in his life; he was long past being bothered by it.

It was only a moment later, when Anthony's gaze landed on two familiar figures, that he couldn't help freezing for a few seconds.

Students from all three sections of the Semiconductor Engineering program had gathered here for registration—somewhere around a hundred people total, roughly thirty-some per section.

It wasn't an enormous number, all things considered, since Ashford admitted somewhere around five or six thousand students a year.

Given a pool that size, the odds of running into both his childhood sweetheart and the girl who'd once confessed to him, in the same place, at the same time, should have been vanishingly small.

And yet, against all odds, that exact improbability had happened to him.

Chloe Sheridan. Ivy Hughes.

The instant those two names surfaced in his mind, the two girls spotted him at almost the very same moment.

The slender, black-haired girl on the left instantly teared up, staring at him, stunned.

"Anthony..."

Her soft lips parted as she said the name of the childhood friend she hadn't seen in so long.

Meanwhile, the other girl, seated a few seats over to the right, reacted even more dramatically—she shot up out of her seat, visibly flustered.

Realizing she'd just done that in front of everyone, her face flushed red, and she stammered out, "A-Anthony? What are you doing here?!"

Even so, the joy in her eyes at finding something precious she'd thought lost for good was impossible to hide.

'Give me a break.' Anthony sighed inwardly and pulled up the System without thinking.

Aside from his sorrow meter ticking up a mere 0.1%, every other reading stayed dead still.

And even that fluctuation barely registered—smaller, even, than the jump some people apparently got just from sneezing.

Sure enough, even seeing them again after all this time, he found he could stay completely unbothered.

Whatever there'd been between them before, it was in the past. Let it stay there.

Still, even if he couldn't keep up the old relationship, now that fate had made them coursemates, at least the basic courtesies were in order.

With that thought, Anthony forced his expression into something like a calm smile, gave a small nod, and headed toward the back of the room.