Chapter 10 : Randy

The night was bitterly cold. The wind howled fiercely outside, and the clock showed 9 PM. Soft, mellow music played in the background, wrapping the night in a calm, soothing atmosphere. Randy leaned back, letting the sweet melody carry him away as he savoured the night's stillness.

In the kitchen, a few of the house staff bustled about, preparing delicious dishes—along with Randy's favourite pasta. Yet, despite the warmth of the home and the aroma of good food, the long stretch of loneliness that night drove Randy to glance at his phone screen. He was waiting for a reply, a message from someone far away.

Trying to distract himself, he reached for one of his favourite mystery novels, flipping through the pages to pass the long, empty hours.

By the time the clock struck 11, his phone let out a sharp beep. A notification. The message he'd been waiting for had finally arrived.

I will be home tomorrow morning, Randy.

Randy let out a frustrated sigh. He tossed the phone aside and went back to bed, leaving the music still playing softly in his ears. That message, sent hours ago in the afternoon, was only now getting a reply. Annoyed but too tired to care, he let sleep take over.

Randy was the only child in the family. His father adored him more than anything else in the world. His mother had separated from his father when Randy was just a little boy, which only made his father's love grow even more intense. His current stepmother, despite everything, loved Randy with genuine affection as well.

Yet, because he'd always been given everything he wanted, Randy had grown into an ambitious and assertive young man—always determined to get what he desired.

As a child, he spent most of his time at home under his father's protective care. When he was five, a new housemaid arrived, bringing along her son, Sam. Sam was about Randy's age, and naturally, they became close friends, playing together every day. Randy often bought Sam new toys, and their bond grew stronger as they grew up—until one fateful day in middle school.

A terrible fight broke out. Randy came home with his face bruised and bloodied. Furious, his father blamed Sam for everything, unleashing his anger on Sam and his mother. Without listening to reason, he threw them out of the house that very night.

Randy could only watch from a distance, helpless and silent.

Years passed. One day, Randy spotted Sam on the streets, selling newspapers. Filled with guilt, he approached him and apologized for everything his father had done. He explained why he hadn't been able to intervene back then—he was protecting someone, though he never said who.

Sam eventually forgave him, and their friendship slowly rekindled. Randy even helped Sam's family recover, paying for his sister Rose's hospital bills and clearing his mother's debts. He funded her small sewing shop, pulling them out of poverty bit by bit.

The next morning at 7 am, the maids prepared a fresh omelet and milk for Randy's breakfast. He took a few bites, enjoying the simple meal when the doorbell rang.

He already knew—it was his father.

His father entered the house with energetic steps and hugged Randy warmly.

"Hi, my precious son!"

Still chewing, Randy barely looked up.

"Didn't think you remembered you had a son, Dad," he muttered, clearly unimpressed.

"Aw, come on, don't be like that. You know I've got business overseas I can't just drop."

His father ruffled his hair. "So, how've you been these past three days? Healthy? No fevers?"

"I'm fine, Dad."

"Good! Oh, and look—I brought you a present!"

His father handed him a small package.

Randy blinked. "What is it?"

"Just open it."

He unwrapped the gift and frowned. "Dad… it's another watch? I still have the one you gave me last time."

"It's fine! You can add it to your collection."

"I don't need another one, Dad."

His father chuckled. "Maybe I should've bought a girl's watch instead—so you could give it to her, hmm?"

Randy flushed. "Dad! Seriously?."

"Anyway, Rand, you wanted to ask me something?" His father poured himself a cup of coffee.

" Oh Yeah… Dad, do you know the details about Claire's accident?"

At that, his father's hand froze mid-stir. He was silent for a long moment before speaking softly.

"Yes… I know, Rand."

"You own the school, right? You must know what happened."

Randy leaned in. "Do you really think Claire fell on purpose? Or was she pushed?"

"Rand, don't get ideas. That case is months old. It's all settled now."

"Settled? Settled how, Dad?"

His father avoided his gaze, sipping his coffee slowly. He stood up, clearly uncomfortable.

"Dad, we're not done yet. If you're hiding something, I swear—"

His father turned back, his voice low. "We'll talk tonight, okay? I got a meeting at the office now."

"You better not lie to me, Dad."

"Relax, Rand. I promise."

And just like that, he left for work, leaving Randy at the dining table, a storm of questions still swirling in his mind.

Why won't he just tell me? Why keep secrets from me?

Frustrated, Randy grabbed his keys and headed out for school. His school is not far from Green Mint School. He drove his favourite car there, as usual, greeted enthusiastically by his classmates. Randy was popular—kind, generous, often treating his friends to snacks. No wonder they were always ready to do whatever he asked.

That day, he remembered a task he had to complete—a school project saved on his father's laptop, which he'd forgotten to transfer to his USB. The laptop was at his father's school office, meaning he had no choice but to head over to Green Mint School.

The school was buzzing with kids selling treats for Market Day. Randy slipped in through the back entrance, wearing a mask and cap to avoid being recognized.

As he passed the music room, he froze.

There, by the window, was Claire.

She was playing the piano, her fingers dancing across the keys, filling the air with a beautiful, graceful melody. Randy stood there, rooted in place, watching her. The girl he'd secretly admired since last year's math competition.

But then Claire turned, sensing his gaze.

Panic jolted through him. He ducked quickly, hiding before she could get a proper look.

That was close…

He couldn't let her see him like this—masked and undercover. Shaking his head, he focused back on his mission: retrieving the laptop.

At the principal's office, Mr. Mooren—his father's right-hand man—spotted him.

"Randy, you wànt to pick up your father's laptop?"

"Yeah. Is it ready, Uncle?"

"Of course. Give me a second."

A few minutes later, Mr. Mooren returned with the laptop.

"Thanks, Uncle."

"Anytime, Rand. Next time, just call me—I could've delivered it to your school."

"It's fine. It's not far anyway."

Randy quickly made his way back out, slipping past the crowds of students and parents busy buying snacks.

By late afternoon, he was back home, his project finished at last.

That's when a message popped up on his phone. From Sam.

Randy's face darkened as he read it—and typed back a quick, curt reply.