Lucas fell silent.

I knew this analysis might not be entirely correct.

But no matter who it was, the goal was the same—

To keep clinging to us and never let us have peace.

I looked up at him. "Save the evidence first and go to the station for a supplemental report. And then... we need to prepare our final move."

"What final move?"

"Leaving early."

Lucas was stunned.

I said lowly, "Even though it’ll be a while before the project officially departs, the training can be done at a central location in the city first. I can apply to go there early to prepare materials; they might be able to coordinate housing."

"What about you?"

"If you can get an opportunity for an out-of-town targeted placement or a competition training camp before the college entrance exam, you have to go too."

"We can't stay in a place they can reach so easily anymore."

This was no longer a problem that simple "prevention" could solve.

Since we were being targeted, the only way was to find a way to jump completely out of their usual radius of control.

Lucas looked at me, deep emotions swirling in his eyes.

"And if I can't leave for the time being?"

I paused.

That was the most realistic question.

I could leave early using the project, but Lucas didn't have such a legitimate opportunity yet.

And I absolutely could not leave him here alone like I did in my past life.

"Then we'll create an opportunity for you."

I said slowly, "Mr. Sterling mentioned before that there’s a targeted summer camp for an out-of-town university that only looks at grades and teacher recommendations. We’ll fight for it this week."

Lucas stared at me for a long time, then whispered:

"Had you already thought of this step long ago?"

I didn't deny it.

Because from the first day I woke up after being reborn, I had been thinking—

If I still can't hide this time, then at the very least, I must push Lucas out of this net earlier and faster than I did in my past life.

20

Over the next few days, we were racing against time.

During the day we attended classes, and at night we prepared our materials.

I went to the police station to make a supplemental report for the stalking and the threatening text messages. The police advised me to travel in groups as much as possible during this period and avoid taking isolated paths alone. Meanwhile, they would contact the network carrier to help investigate the information regarding the phone numbers.

The project group was also more supportive than I had anticipated.

After I truthfully explained my current situation, the teacher in charge was silent for a long time. She only asked me one question: "You want to come over as soon as possible to attend the pre-departure training, correct?"

I nodded.

Even though she couldn't see me through the phone line.

"Yes, I want to go there ahead of schedule."

"Alright," her tone was gentle yet decisive. "I'll coordinate this for you."

The moment I hung up, I felt a bit dazed.

Having been deliberately made things difficult for, suppressed, and humiliated for so long on this journey, I actually felt a sense of unreality when someone was willing to treat me according to the rules and with fairness.

Meanwhile, an opportunity finally arrived on Lucas's end as well.

On Thursday afternoon, Mr. Sterling called him into the office. When he came out, Lucas had an additional registration form in his hand.

It was for a short-term elite camp organized by a key university in another province.

There weren't many spots, but once accepted, it would make the subsequent college entrance exams and recommendations go much smoother.

Most importantly, it was a closed-enrollment program, and the location was out of town.

Looking at that form, my heart skipped a beat.

"Is there hope?"

Lucas nodded. "The teacher said that given my recent grades and circumstances, it's worth a shot."

I let out a sigh of relief instantly, and my eyes grew a bit warm.

This was wonderful.

As long as he could secure this opportunity as well, we would both be able to leave this place ahead of the college entrance exam.

Even if it wasn't a complete escape, we could at least extract ourselves from the radius they could most easily control.

Yet, fate always seemed to place another thorn right when you were about to see the exit.

On Friday evening, on the way home from school, Lucas was cornered by people.

Not inside the school.

It was at the entrance of an old bookstore two streets away from the school gate.

The person calling me was the bookstore owner's wife, her tone very urgent: "Are you a family member of student Lucas? He's got into a conflict with a few boys, come over quickly!"

My brain buzzed, and I grabbed my schoolbag and rushed out immediately.

By the time I arrived, a circle of people had already gathered at the alley entrance.

Lucas stood in the middle, his mouth bleeding, his school uniform wrinkled, and his hand clutching something tightly.

Opposite him were three boys about the same age. One look told they weren't proper students, with dyed hair and faces full of impatience.

The owner's wife was trying to hold them back while scolding: "You hoodlums, I've called the police!"

One of the boys spat on the ground: "Call them then, who's afraid of whom."

My heart pounded wildly as I rushed over: "Lucas!"

The moment Lucas saw me, his expression changed instantly.

"Who told you to come here?"

"You're injured—"

"I'm fine." He instinctively blocked me behind him. "Don't come over."

Only then did I see that what he was clutching in his hand was that elite camp registration form, its corners already torn apart.

And those boys stared at me, their expressions clearly changing.

The leader blew a whistle, his tone flippant: "Oh, so this is that little sister?"

A chill ran through my entire body.

This single sentence was enough to prove what they had come for.

It wasn't a random conflict.

They had blocked him on purpose, targeting us specifically.

The ferocity in Lucas's eyes could no longer be suppressed instantly, and he threw a punch straight over.

The scene descended into chaos once more.

In the end, it was the patrolling police who arrived in time to take everyone to the station.

While recording their statements, those boys were stubborn at first, claiming it was just a minor friction. Later, under the surveillance footage and the witness testimony of the bookstore owner's wife, they finally admitted that someone had paid them to "frighten" Lucas and ideally rob the things in his hand.

"Who gave you the money?"

"...A woman."

"What's her name?"

"We really don't know. She just told us brothers to get a job done and said she'd transfer the money once it was done."

I sat nearby, my hands and feet freezing cold.

A woman.

Sloane? Her friend? Or someone else from the Sterling family?

It didn't matter anymore.

What mattered was that they had truly started resorting to these kinds of measures.

It wasn't humiliation, and it wasn't spreading rumors; they were directly hiring people to block his path, rob his materials, and ruin his opportunity in the lowest manner possible.

My chest felt suffocated, and I could hardly breathe.

Lucas sat beside me, a large patch of skin scraped on the back of his hand and the corner of his mouth bruised, yet he turned around to comfort me in a low voice: "I'm really fine."

My eyes turned red instantly.

"You call this fine?"

"It's much better than the past life." He paused right after speaking, as if realizing he had made a slip of the tongue.

But I already understood.

The "past life" he spoke of wasn't that he truly knew everything, but that he had completely taken those dreams of mine as some kind of real warning.

Therefore, at this moment, he wasn't just enduring because of the minor injuries before his eyes.

He was rejoicing—that at least this time, he had not truly been dragged down into it.

I sniffed and suppressed my emotions.

By the time we left the police station, it was completely dark.

The streetlights at the alley entrance were dim and yellowish, and the wind was a bit chilly.

I suddenly stopped my footsteps and turned to look at Lucas.

"We are leaving today."

He froze for a moment: "Now?"

"Yes, now."

"But your training—"

"I can report to the project group tomorrow morning. We can just stay near the station for tonight."

"What about you?"

"I'll take you to the teacher's place first to get the registration materials filled out again, and we'll handle the paperwork together tomorrow morning."

I spoke very fast and very steadily, as if all hesitation was finally severed at this moment.