chapter 3

"But I can. I have hands, I have legs. I'll get a job. Even three if I have to. I will raise the money myself. I promise."

She hesitated, heart heavy.

"Please, Mom. Just trust me on this one."

Her eyes softened.

"Jordan..." she whispered.

He cupped her face gently. "If Dad couldn't love you right before he left... I'll make sure you never feel that way again."

Tears welled in her eyes, slipping past her lashes.

He pulled her into a hug, stroking her hair as she cried silently.

"Don't cry, Mom. Everything will be fine."

Camelia had just gotten home. She flopped onto the couch, flipping open the magazine—when a folded paper fluttered out.

She bent to pick it up—

But a sharp heel crushed it.

"Mom?" she whispered.

"Do I have to repeat myself every day, Camelia?!" her mother barked.

"Wh-What did I do?"

"The laundry's piling up, the sink's a mess, our rooms look like warzones, and the pots are EMPTY—and here you are, sitting with some garbage book!"

"I'm sorry—I'll do it now," she said, turning quickly.

"Hey!" Lexi snapped, catching sight of the magazine. "What's that?"

"A magazine. Jordan gave it to me..."

Lexi snorted. "Those disgusting, freeloading neighbors? They're lucky we even let them breathe our air! I need a bath just thinking about stepping foot in their place."

She yanked the magazine out of Camelia's hand and tossed it in the bin.

"Don't ever bring anything from them into this house again. Or you'll be out on the streets. Got it?"

Camelia's heart tightened. She smiled through the pain.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't say sorry—move your lazy ass!" her mom shouted.

Camelia rushed out.

"And pick up the pace!" Lexi yelled after her.

Scene: Edward's Ventures

The hallway fell silent at the echo of his steps.

Jet-black shoes. Tailored suit. Cologne sharp enough to freeze time.

Edward—mid-fifties but impossibly polished—strode with purpose.

He pushed open his office door—and stopped, frozen in disbelief.

On his desk.

Clover.

Thrusting mercilessly into a woman—Cat—legs splayed across his high-profile contracts.

"Oh, baby!" she screamed, gripping the table.

"Moan for me, bitch," Clover growled, his mouth on her breasts.

"Harder! You're driving me cra—AHH—zy!"

Edward's jaw dropped.

"What in hell!" he roared.

Clover yanked himself free. Cat grabbed her dress, trembling.

"You said he wouldn't be in today!" she whispered frantically.

"Because you're dumb," Clover smirked.

Edward stormed forward and slapped Cat hard across the face.

"You dare desecrate my office with this filth?!"

"I'm enchanted by his d*ck," she spat.

Another slap. Stars spun in her vision.

"You'll pay for touching my files—and stepping in here like a whore!"

He slammed his palm on the security button. Two guards rushed in.

"Throw her out!"

She screamed, reaching for Clover—but he turned away coldly.

Edward glared.

"You've crossed every damn line, Clover."

Clover lit a cigarette, blew smoke toward the ceiling. "Do your worst."

"You can go f*** the Queen of England—I don't care anymore!"

"Aww, Dad. That's why I love you. You wouldn't care if I banged your mother on her wedding night."

"GET OUT!" Edward shouted.

"There's freedom of movement, bruh." He tossed the cigarette onto the desk.

Edward collapsed onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.

He couldn't control him anymore.

Clover scrolled through his phone. "I've f***ed every girl in school. I need something new... fresh... untouched."

The Next Morning – Friday

Camelia stepped out, bright-faced, wearing her uniform neatly pressed.

She spotted Jordan fixing his old bike.

Then she remembered—the magazine. Her mother had trashed it.

Her heart skipped. What if he asks about it?

Without thinking, she bolted down the street.

Jordan looked up, confused, her name halfway to his lips.

She was already gone.

He blinked, then mounted his bike, taking the opposite direction.

Scene: J.D. High – Class 12A

Half the day gone.

Camelia sat at her desk, pale. The symptoms were creeping in again.

She hated when this happened at school.

She gripped her pen tightly, scribbling nonsense.

"Are you okay?" her seatmate Leigh asked.

"I'm just... feeling feverish," she muttered, fists clenching.

Snap. The pen cracked in her grip.

"Mrs. Taylor!" she called out. "I need the restroom!"

"We're almost done, Camelia. Two minutes."

"I can't wait."

"Just a moment more—"

"I'm sorry!" she cried and dashed out of the room.

Students stared. Leigh followed.

Genesis narrowed her eyes. "What's she up to now?"

Camelia ran until she reached the girls' restroom, pounding the door with bloody knuckles.

Then—

"Hey, jerk," Genesis snapped from behind.

Camelia let out a scream. Her mind snapped.

She grabbed Genesis by the hair, slamming her into the bathroom door.

CRACK.

The door split in half.

Leigh screamed and ran the opposite direction.