The night outside pressed down heavily like a vast, invisible net.

I knew that tonight was only the beginning.

Caspian had already noticed me.

And Sloane would never let go just because I claimed to have "won the lottery."

I couldn't wait passively for them to strike like I did in my last life.

This time, I had to be one step ahead and lead Lucas out of this net.

But the problem was—

I was just a high school student, and the money I truly had access to was very limited. The lottery was just a temporary excuse. I could slowly cover our tuition and living expenses by using information from my memories and taking part-time jobs, but to completely escape Sloane and Caspian, that wasn't nearly enough.

I closed my eyes, trying hard to recall the events that took place at this point in my past life.

Suddenly, a name surfaced in my mind.

Mr. Sterling.

After the college entrance exams in my last life, Lucas had been scouted by a top provincial university. Our homeroom teacher, Mr. Sterling, had tried to help him secure a financial aid project and a spot in an out-of-town specialized training program.

If I remembered correctly, that project should be finalizing its candidate list right about now.

My breathing gradually steadied.

This was an opportunity.

It was our first real path out of here.

6

The next morning, I had barely slept.

As soon as it was light, I washed my face, grabbed my backpack, and headed out.

As soon as I reached the bottom of the building, I saw Lucas standing at the entrance, holding two steamed buns and a cup of soy milk.

The morning light fell over him, making even his old school uniform look softer.

Seeing me, he reached out and handed me the breakfast.

"Your stomach isn't great. Don't go on an empty one."

I blinked, reaching out to take it. My palms instantly felt the warmth.

"When did you come down?"

"Just now," he said nonchalantly.

But I could tell he had been waiting for a while. His ears were red from the morning wind, and his shoulders were damp with a thin layer of dew.

My heart softened. "Thank you," I whispered.

He gave a small "Mhm" and walked toward school with me.

We didn't speak much along the way.

Yet this silence wasn't awkward; instead, it held a strange sense of security.

As we reached the school gate, I suddenly spoke up. "Lucas, after the exams, where do you want to go?"

He glanced at me, seemingly surprised by the sudden question.

"Let's focus on getting in somewhere first."

"What if there was a chance to go to another city? Or even further?"

Lucas was silent for two seconds. "As long as I can leave this place, anywhere is fine."

My pace faltered slightly.

Leave this place.

So he had been thinking the same thing all along.

That was good.

My greatest fear was never that the road would be difficult, but that while I was trying desperately to save him, he would insist on staying in place, thinking he could sacrifice himself for a "safer" future.

Fortunately, Lucas wasn't that kind of person.

When we reached the classroom, Sloane hadn't arrived yet.

As soon as I sat down, a girl from the back row leaned in to gossip. "Did you guys piss off Sloane yesterday? She looked like she was in a terrible mood."

I kept my head down, flipping through my book as if I hadn't heard.

The girl wanted to ask more, but the classroom suddenly fell silent.

I looked up and saw Sloane walking in.

She was wearing light makeup today, her lips bright, and she had regained her usual air of arrogant ease. But the moment she walked in, her gaze landed on Lucas first, then swept over to me.

It was a brief look, but it was filled with blatant displeasure.

Not long after she sat down, she tossed her phone onto the desk. Her voice wasn't loud, but it was just enough for the people nearby to hear.

"Some people just don't know how to appreciate a favor."

No one around her dared to respond.

She added lazily, "But that's fine. Patience is the one thing I'm not short on."

I lowered my eyes, my fingertips slowly tracing the edge of the page.

Sloane wasn't just throwing a tantrum; she was issuing a warning.

A warning for Lucas, and a warning for me.

The message was simple—she wasn't going to let this go.

After the first period ended, I went to the office to find our homeroom teacher, Mr. Sterling.

Mr. Sterling was grading papers. Seeing me enter, he looked up and adjusted his glasses. "What is it?"

I suppressed my nervousness, trying to keep my tone natural. "Sir, I wanted to ask if the school has any financial aid projects, or opportunities for early admission or specialized training?"

Mr. Sterling was surprised. "You want to look into that?"

"Yes," I nodded. "The situation at home isn't great for either me or Lucas. If there are opportunities like that, we want to start preparing early."

Mr. Sterling watched me for a moment, his expression softening.

"There are, actually." He put down his pen. "This year, there happens to be a support plan from a consortium of universities, specifically targeting students with stable grades and financial difficulties. There aren't many spots, but both you and Lucas have a chance."

My heart jumped. I immediately followed up, "What are the requirements?"

"The foundation is your grades and a school recommendation. Also, it's best not to have any trouble during this period." As he spoke, he seemed to think of something, and his tone became more meaningful. "The most important thing for you two right now is your studies. Avoid getting mixed up with the wrong crowd outside, do you understand?"

My heart tightened.

It seemed the teacher was somewhat aware of Sloane’s harassment.

I immediately agreed. "I understand."

Mr. Sterling nodded and pulled a form from his drawer, handing it to me.

"Take this and look it over first. Tell Lucas to come by later too. I'll give you both the specifics then."

I took the form, and my heart finally felt a bit more at ease.

As long as there was an official, school-sanctioned opportunity, our chances of leaving would be much higher. At the very least, we wouldn't have to stake our fates on Sloane’s whim.

Just as I stepped out of the office, I saw Caspian at the end of the hallway.

He wasn't wearing his school jacket, just a black hoodie. He was leaning against the window, his long legs crossed, twirling a small metal object that looked like a lighter. The sunlight hit him from the side, making his eyes look lighter.

He wasn't surprised to see me.

It was as if he had been waiting specifically for me.

I stopped in my tracks.

He straightened up and walked toward me.

"Can we talk?"

I gripped the form in my hand. "We have nothing to talk about."

"Don't be so tense." His voice was effortless. "I'm not going to eat you."

Hearing those words only made a chill run down my spine.

He loved to say that in my past life, too. He said it like a joke, but I was the only one who knew the suffocating malice hidden behind it.

I turned to leave, but he reached out first, pressing his hand against the railing beside me.

He didn't touch me.

But he effectively blocked my path.

"Did I scare you last night?" He looked down at me and suddenly smiled. "You're actually more pleasant to look at when you're crying than you were yesterday."

A surge of nausea rose in my stomach.

I looked up and stared at him coldly. "What exactly do you want to say?"

Caspian gazed at me, his eyes studying me like I was some novel curiosity.

"Nothing," he said slowly. "I just think you're quite interesting."

"Acting so composed in front of Sloane during the day, yet hiding at Lucas's door to shed tears at night."

"Tell me, which one is the real you?"

I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to stay calm.

He was testing me.

And it was happening faster than I had anticipated.

I couldn't panic, nor could I show any more weaknesses.

So I looked him in the eye and asked back, "Then which version of me do you find more interesting?"

Caspian clearly hadn't expected me to turn the question back on him. His eyebrows quirked up.

Suppressing my disgust, I continued, "The one trembling in fear because of you, or the one who stays silent and lets herself be bullied?"

"If it's the former, you're going to be disappointed." I said each word clearly. "I simply despise people like you."

The air went silent for a second.