"The punishment has been decided."

I briefly explained the outcome.

Lucas let out a sigh of relief, then frowned. "You look terrible."

"I'm a bit tired."

I really was tired.

It wasn't just today's incident itself, but the shadows of my past life triggered by that photo, still clinging to me like cold, damp water.

I tried to look my usual self, but Lucas could obviously tell I wasn't okay.

"I'll take you back."

"Okay."

We walked out along the school building.

As we neared the school gate, I heard someone call my name from behind.

"Lynn."

I paused.

That voice was too familiar.

So familiar that I didn't even need to turn around to know who it was.

Lucas’s expression turned cold instantly.

Caspian walked over slowly, still fiddling with his phone. His expression was as relaxed as ever, as if the person who had just nonchalantly sold out Sloane in the office wasn't him.

After stopping, he looked at me for two seconds and suddenly said: "You're bolder than I thought."

I stared at him without responding.

Lucas stood in front of me: "What do you want now?"

Caspian lifted his eyelids, spared him a glance, didn't bother responding, and continued talking to me:

"That photo was Sloane's own madness."

"It had nothing to do with me."

Hearing this, I actually felt like laughing.

"And so?"

"So, are you here to clear your name now?"

Caspian looked at me, his brow furrowing very slightly, as if he didn't quite like my tone.

"I don't need to clear anything with you."

"I just saw the way you looked earlier and was afraid you’d pin this debt on me as well."

My fingertips tightened.

He had noticed.

At the office door, when I saw that photo, there really was a moment where the past and present blurred together. In the first moment I saw him, my heart felt as if it had been pierced by needles of ice.

That loss of composure must have been too obvious, so he caught it.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady:

"Shouldn't it be pinned on you?"

"In the past... before, weren't you always together?"

I almost slipped up again.

Caspian’s gaze flickered slightly, as if he had noticed something, or perhaps not.

He stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly let out a low laugh.

"You really are good at misplacing your anger."

"But fine."

He spoke nonchalantly, his gaze resting on my noticeably pale lips.

"You're already afraid whenever you see me anyway. Adding or subtracting one more debt makes no difference."

Lucas’s face darkened severely. "Get lost."

Caspian finally seemed to lose the last of his interest and raised a hand to rub the back of his neck.

"Fine, I won't disturb you two."

He turned to leave, then paused, turning his head to say to me:

"But Lynn, there’s something I advise you to think through."

"Sloane lost a lot of face this time; she won't let it go."

"You'd better not find yourself alone."

He finished and truly left.

But as I stood there, a chill slowly crept up my back.

Because I couldn't tell if his words were a warning or a threat.

16

After returning to the new place, I found myself in a rare state of wanting to do nothing at all.

The English materials were spread across the desk, and my pen lay beside them, but I couldn't focus on a single word.

Even though that photo had been torn to shreds and dealt with, its aftereffects lingered.

It felt as if someone had abruptly ripped open an old scar from behind, forcing me to look once more at those most unbearable marks.

Lucas was boiling water in the kitchen.

The base of the old electric kettle was a bit loose, occasionally making a crackling electrical sound. This apartment was so small that every little noise could be heard clearly. Because of that, it actually provided a strange sense of stability.

At least, it wasn't one of those rooms that was so vast it felt empty, or so silent it drove a person mad.

After a while, Lucas brought over a cup of hot water and placed it by my hand.

"Drink some first."

I nodded and cupped the glass. As the steam hit my face, I finally felt a bit of warmth returning to my fingertips.

Lucas crouched down so his line of sight was level with mine.

"Did that photo today make you remember something?"

My heart tightened.

He asked very softly, almost tentatively.

But I still couldn't answer immediately.

Because behind those words "remember something" lay the weight of a past life that I still didn't dare to speak of easily.

Seeing my silence, Lucas didn't rush me.

He just watched me quietly, waiting for me to speak.

I looked down, staring at the surface of the water swaying gently in the cup. After a long time, I said in a raspy voice:

"Lucas, if I told you that I sometimes dream of very terrifying things, would you think I’m strange?"

"No," he answered quickly.

"What if those dreams... involve you and me, and they aren't good things?"

Lucas’s eyes shifted slightly, but his voice remained steady: "Then it's even less strange."

"Why?"

"Because you’ve been afraid lately," he said. "Afraid of Sloane, afraid of Caspian, afraid of me doing something stupid. Your fear isn't coming from nowhere."

"People don't fear things so intensely without a reason."

My nose prickled with a sudden sting.

So he had known all along.

Not the truth, but that there must be a reason behind all my unusual behavior.

I finally looked up at him and said softly:

"I dreamed that you agreed to Sloane's demands for my sake."

"I also dreamed... that I was locked up by Caspian."

As I said this, my fingers couldn't help but tremble.

Lucas’s pupils contracted sharply.

I continued: "In the dream, Sloane refused to let you go. She trapped you by her side, using money, your future, and even me to force you to bow your head."

"And because of you, I was targeted by Caspian as well."

"For many years after that, neither of us was truly able to leave them."

The room was deathly quiet.

The only sound was the "click" of the kettle automatically cutting power after boiling dry, drifting in from the kitchen.

I didn't know if Lucas would think I was crazy.

After all, this sounded utterly absurd.

I had even prepared myself—if he showed even a hint of doubt or disbelief, I wouldn't blame him.

But the next second, I heard Lucas ask very softly:

"Is that why you were so certain that you couldn't let me agree to her?"

I was stunned. "You... believe me?"

"I don't know if it was really a dream," he looked at me, deep emotions suppressed in his eyes. "But I believe you aren't just making things up."

"And," he paused, his voice turning slightly hoarse, "if such a possibility truly existed, I would rather drive myself to the brink now than ever take that path."

My eyes suddenly grew hot with tears.

"Don't talk like that."

Lucas reached out and gently wiped away a tear that had fallen without me noticing.

His movements were clumsy, his fingertips slightly calloused, touching the corner of my eye very lightly.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For letting you be afraid all by yourself for so long."

I stared at him blankly, my chest feeling as though it were being filled with something soft and heavy all at once.

I realized that the hardest part wasn't telling the truth.

It was that after speaking a part of it, someone was finally willing to catch you.

Not with doubt or dismissal, but by seriously telling you: I believe you.

I sniffed and managed a small smile.

"Well, now that you know, you can't be foolish anymore."

"Yeah," he responded lowly. "You too."

That night, for the first time, we opened up about many things.

Although I still didn't directly use the word "rebirth," and he didn't press for more details, some of the most important things no longer needed to be hidden.

For instance, we both knew what the other was afraid of.

And we both knew we had to move forward even faster.

The next day, the written exam for the exchange program began.

The testing center was located at another key middle school in the city.

I arrived early and looked back once before entering the school gates.

Lucas was standing not far away and gave me a nod.

"Don't be nervous."

I smiled. "You're more nervous than I am."

He didn't deny it, only saying, "I'll wait for you at the gate after the exam."

I gave an "okay" and turned to enter the testing hall.

The moment the exam papers were handed out, I became completely calm.

Reading, writing, comprehensive analysis—the workload was significant, but it was all within the scope of my preparation. The regrets of not being able to truly leave in my past life seemed to transform into the strength behind my pen in this one.