In a dream that felt both real and surreal, Aylin Scott once again encountered her long-lost mother. In her hazy memories, her mother, Kayleigh Myers, was always a beautiful woman—elegant without being ostentatious, and always smiling gently, gazing quietly, serene like still water and as gracious as jade. Aylin yearned for her mother to come closer, to hold her in a comforting embrace. However, that beautiful, unfamiliar, blurry face only offered a gentle smile before slipping away. In the vast emptiness of her dream, Aylin screamed, "Mom—Mom—," her voice echoing across the universe, but it never reached her mother. She desperately wanted to chase after her mother's shadow, yet the figure kept moving farther away until it vanished entirely, leaving Aylin once more alone in that barren landscape.

It was always the same dream, the same landscape, and the same abrupt awakening. Aylin pulled back the curtains and looked dejectedly at the sun rising outside, casting an oppressively hot glow. She lowered her eyes, sitting on her bed in a futile attempt to grasp the fading fragments of the dream, yearning to recover any memory of her mother, even just a scrap, as it would be a great comfort. Yet, besides the echo of her own screams in her ears, there was nothing. Perhaps, for her, motherly love could only ever be an endless, unattainable dream.

Eight years had passed, yet Aylin's longing for her mother persisted like an unending stream, a shadowy cloud that never dissipated. This persistent yearning, which she neither could nor wanted to stop, brought about an inexplicable sadness—ultimately, it was the betrayal of her mother who abandoned the family, abandoned her and her father. Although this sense of betrayal led her to instinctively harbor resentment, Aylin was often left feeling frustrated by the impossibility of hating someone she missed constantly.

Holding her backpack tightly, she passed her grandmother as quietly as possible, attempting to avoid any opportunity for conversation. She knew nothing good ever came from her grandmother's mouth, and at times, she'd entertain the spiteful thought of how peaceful the world would be if her grandmother suddenly lost her voice.

Her grandmother, known as Kayleigh Gardner, never actually attended school, but the Church had given her a more cultured name. Known since childhood as "Many," post-marriage, she became "Mrs. Gardner," and later "Kayleigh Gardner." Despite her tragic story of early widowhood and raising two children alone, her presence was far from pitiful; rather, it was commanding. No one in the village dared regard her as weak, as her sharp tongue could easily outmatch any collective chatter from the other women.

Standing in the yard, toothbrush in one hand and a cup of water in the other, Kayleigh spat out the water and shot a glance at her passing granddaughter, asking, "So, not eating?"

Aylin muttered, lowering her head, "No, I'm late."

Kayleigh gargled and spat out another mouthful of water irritably in Aylin’s direction, exclaiming, "Darn it! I get up early to make you breakfast, and you won’t even eat! I'm done trying to please you..."

Aylin did not dare respond, quickly fleeing the scene.

Throughout her childhood and into adolescence, Aylin never had many friends. As a child, she was often bullied and left out of games. As she grew older and more graceful, she found herself dismissive of those who suddenly sought her friendship. As a student, she was independent and distant; no one dared to approach her, and she feared being approached by others. Thus, her name was rarely heard among the students.

"Aylin Scott! Come with me!"

When her homeroom teacher, known as "Bear Mom," called her name, several classmates glanced in her direction, as if suddenly remembering her presence. The teacher's gaze didn't seem particularly friendly, leaving Aylin puzzled about what she might have done to garner attention, and followed her teacher out of the classroom reluctantly.

"Bear Mom," actually Julissa Gibson, was Aylin's class advisor—a thirty-seven-year-old, petite and stout woman expecting her third child, hoping for a boy after two daughters. Despite the challenges, Aylin sympathized with her teacher, who tirelessly oversaw morning and evening classes with a swell belly, thinking how hard life must be without support—both of them struggling in different ways.

In the office, Julissa settled heavily into her chair, shuffling through a stack of forms without raising her eyes, simply saying, "Sit."

Aylin felt a pang of anxiety.

Julissa finally found Aylin’s form, placed it before her, and tapped it, "So, what's your plan?"

"Nothing special. I want to start earning money soon," Aylin replied, masking her emotions.

Julissa frowned and lifted her eyes to Aylin, momentarily at a loss for words. She had a fondness for Aylin—or maybe a sense of protective compassion. She had known Aylin’s father from school and thought him wholly unsuitable as a husband, unsurprised when she heard he divorced, but she pitied his motherless child. Julissa believed Aylin was a good kid—reserved, quiet, never causing trouble, a diligent student.

After a pause, Julissa struggled to her feet, sighed, and approached Aylin, placing her hands on Aylin's shoulders in an attempt at comfort.

Aylin flinched at the touch, instinctively shrugging her shoulders, causing Julissa to hastily withdraw her hands, pretending nonchalance, "I knew your father in school, so I know a bit about your family... But listen, sometimes you can't afford to take the wrong path in life. If you step wrong now, who knows how many detours you'll have to take later! With your grades, getting into the city’s top high school is a sure thing. Think about it, okay?"

Julissa wiped at her oily cheeks distractedly, her neck's sagging skin visible beneath her sloppy hairstyle, the result of her weight and swollen abdomen.

Despite herself, Aylin felt a touch of sympathy for this aging woman. In a tremulous voice, she replied, "I know, Ms. Gibson, you mean well...but I have my own plans." Her stubbornness persisted, but an overwhelming sadness welled within her, realizing how much more pitiful she felt compared to this fading woman's life.

Touched by the pride and isolation in her young pupil, Julissa spoke tenderly, "Silly child, in today’s world, there’s a big difference between those who go to college and those who don’t. Take my advice: if you can, finish high school and aim for university. A good job follows, and then everything falls into place. Giving up now makes it hard to go back later. Even if your dad can't help, isn't your mom still around? No mother doesn't care for her child. Go to her, see what she can do, okay?"

Though not fully convinced by Julissa’s future outlook, her words struck a chord, and Aylin realized that exams might be the lever for her future. She only had one chance—to prove herself, and to perhaps show the mother who abandoned her just what she could achieve.

"I'll follow your advice, Ms. Gibson," Aylin responded with a tentative smile, determined yet fleeting.

People often say a child's mind is a blank canvas, thinking such purity exists in white, yet white is the most complex of colors. At sixteen, Aylin was sensitive and resilient, always encased in protective layers, isolated from the world. Thus, she was solitary, but this solitude did not quench her spirit. She continued to yearn for a different life, willing to risk everything in silent rebellion against her current existence, a rebellion she would carry to the end of her life if necessary.

Suddenly, she found direction, the lighthouse guiding her forward—education.

Whether she attended high school in the city or chose vocational training elsewhere, she was leaving the village, leaving her grandmother behind. Words like "freedom," "liberation," and "rebirth" floated into her mind like colorful bubbles, light and dancing, though occasionally crushed by the harsh memory of her grandmother’s stern face.

Aylin was resolved; whether her grandmother accepted her choice or not, she was determined to move forward. This path was difficult, exhausting, but she hoped to find the right moment to have an open conversation with her grandmother about what grudge was held against her. When her mother fled, she was just eight—a mere child, certainly not the instigator. Why did her grandmother build an impenetrable fortress to keep her out, refusing to hear her pleas?

Unable to break through her grandmother's fortress, her dreams offered little solace as the image of her kind mother receded further. Multiple times, she warned herself in dreams to quicken her pace, to grab her mother before she slipped away, to ask if she could be loved once more. Yet, her legs failed her, and she watched helplessly as her mother faded. Throughout those eight years, Aylin kept silent about her mother. Whenever something surfaced, she inevitably thought of "that person." Even as they left her, the memories were warm, but time continued to erode even those, which was ultimately a cruel reality for a child.

Aylin’s decision to enroll at Dover High School perhaps changed her life. Had her dreams of education been dashed by reality and she relinquished her remote, ambiguous aspirations, her life might have resembled a mere grain of sand on that tiny town’s landscape—ordinary, solitary, and devoid of the varied people and experiences that colored her eventual life with moments of separation and intimate reconciliations.

Time, the magical illusionist, vividly ushered Aylin into Dover High School, and before long, she was on her way to university. Seated by the window of the train, Aylin was accompanied by her uncle Milan Parker, across from an elderly couple. It was her first train ride—a journey clearer and more defined than her previous ones, leaving her slightly excited.

From the age of eight, she dreamed of escaping from the self-imposed limitations of home. Now, finally, it seemed a legitimate reality. While her grandmother was kinder to her, and her uncle and aunt more affectionate, the unknown world beyond them beckoned with endless allure. This was perhaps no different from other children, oblivious to the older generation’s grief and worries.

The journey from Dover to London took almost twenty hours. The train's extended swaying began to make Aylin feel queasy and nauseous, her complexion waning.

"Is she feeling motion sickness?" the elderly woman inquired of Milan.

Milan only then noticed Aylin’s discomfort, "Aylin, are you alright?"

Alarmed at Aylin’s pallor, Milan, though a father himself, had little experience dealing with such situations. Despite his own children's growth, finding Aylin was his self-assigned task, recognizing what she lacked and desiring to provide warmth and security in an unfamiliar environment.

The elderly woman, noticing the father’s helpless demeanor, kindly suggested, "Ask the staff; they might have something for motion sickness!"

"Oh, right! Thank you!" Milan replied gratefully, "Ma’am, please keep an eye on her; I'll be right back!"

Feeling dizzy, Aylin was comforted by her uncle’s diligent care, hoping he wouldn’t disappear.

"Aylin, hang in there, alright? I'll be back soon," Milan reassured her before heading to the train’s end.

"I’m fine," she muttered, not wanting him to leave, but he was already gone.

The elderly woman had spent the day chatting with her husband, now asleep with his head on the table. With him at rest, she struck up a conversation with Aylin, her talkative nature quieted only by age. Aylin thought of her grandmother's relentless chatter, noting the elderly woman's greater elegance.

"Are you just starting university, dear?" the lady inquired.

Aylin nodded weakly.

"Going to school in London?"

"Mhm," Aylin nodded again, out of politeness despite having little strength to respond.

Upon hearing about London, the elderly woman’s pride swelled, "Londoners are exceptional! London is the nation's economic hub, and its culture rivals any! Our universities are world-class—Oxford, Cambridge, all renowned. Even the Prime Minister is a graduate!"

Aylin offered a faint smile, humoring the older woman.

"So, which university are you attending?"

"Oxford," Aylin replied, her reserved demeanor masking a swell of pride.

"Oxford, that's remarkable! No wonder your father is so proud," the lady exclaimed.

Aylin had no intention to correct her; if only she had a father like Milan Parker, she might feel differently.

"And what are you studying?"

The lady seemed somewhat knowledgeable compared to her grandmother, who confused a degree with health sciences.

"Classical Literature."

"Wow! That's wonderful! A noble field indeed," the lady continued enthusiastically. "Our ancestors left us treasures. Shakespeare, Milton, they're greats, aren't they? I taught English for decades, and there's such beauty in our language. But young people today, few study like you do. Sadly, all my children want to move abroad and chase so-called modern civilization. What's civilization, really? It's right here in the UK!"

Aylin felt too drained to follow the conversation and gently closed her eyes.

Just then, Milan returned, sweaty from his trek, handing Aylin some medicine with a water bottle, "Here, take this."

As Aylin was about to swallow the pills, a sudden wave of nausea overtook her, and she threw up onto Milan’s trousers.

Disdainful murmurs arose around them, "Seriously, can’t they prepare for motion sickness?!" "Ugh, the smell!" "Like a bathroom in here!"

Apologetic, Milan began cleaning up, "Sorry, everyone, I’ll tidy this right away!"

Watching him move about the compartment, Aylin found herself not rushing to assist, nor feeling guilty. Instead, she cherished the sense of being cared for, cherished, and protected—as though surrounded by a fatherly embrace.

As the summer days grew increasingly hot and stuffy, Aylin Scott found herself in a state of restless anticipation. Her life, marked by routine, mirrored the oppressive season, with monotony and a longing for change mixed with a fear of the unknown. Aylin's days passed by mindlessly feeding the cats and dogs in the yard, working the fields, shopping for groceries, and going through the motions of daily chores. Life felt stagnant, like a still pond she longed to ripple yet feared to disturb.

Kayleigh Gardner, Aylin's grandmother, rarely spoke to her. Over the years, they had lived under the same roof, deliberately ignoring each other's presence. But for Aylin, this silence was better than the disdainful looks and endless scoldings she might otherwise face.

The familiar sound of brakes outside announced her aunt’s arrival. Visitors were rare, especially those arriving in large cars. Sure enough, it was the white Hyundai, and there was her aunt, Milan Parker, with her trademark cheerful smile, accompanied by Aylin’s cousin Salem and uncle Milan Parker.

Milan Parker, a proud university graduate and one of the first from their town to attend college, now worked at the Chester County Education Committee. She was the pride of Kayleigh Gardner and the entire village. Every visit home involved driving herself, knowing her mother liked to see this success displayed. Vanity, perhaps, but a harmless one. After all, it was her mother's way of moving past old hardships.

Aylin felt warmth for her aunt, who had always been kinder than her father or grandmother. Despite her aunt’s kindness, Aylin couldn’t build a close relationship with her, a fact that puzzled and unnerved her.

“Aunt…” Aylin called softly, unsure if she even heard herself.

“Yes? Where are Grandma and Dad?” Milan asked, gently patting Aylin on the shoulder.

Just as Aylin was about to answer, Kayleigh Gardner emerged from the house, her demeanor changing as she warmly greeted her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson. “Oh, you're here! I was just about to take a nap when I heard your car! That precise braking—Milan, was I right?”

Milan feigned a pout, “Mom, why do you doubt my parking skills?”

Milan Parker stepped past his wife and mother-in-law into the house and settled on the couch. He reached for his pocket to retrieve a cigarette but, noticing Raiden Gardner coming out of the room, offered the packet to him instead. As Raiden reached for a cigarette, Milan teasingly withdrew the packet, handing over an unopened one instead.

Raiden chuckled, “Is this your way, brother-in-law?”

Milan nodded. It was a form of interaction between a proud man and a humble one—pleasant but distant, Aylin observed.

Aylin watched her grandmother and aunt in the room, caught in their familiar harmony, wondering if her presence would disrupt it. They shared a bond she remained outside of, an observer of others' joy, her own isolation palpable. Despite her efforts, she never felt part of their happiness, feeling an overwhelming urge to disappear, like a spirit adrift and lost in thought.

Her mind likened solitude to an enveloping fog, an insidious mist trapping her in its thick embrace. Each pang of loneliness erected invisible barriers, her self-imposed prison, a realm of shadow and heaviness she called a “heart cage.”

On registration day, Milan Parker had Aylin wait in the shade while he stood in line to pay the fees, shuttling tirelessly between the administrative and academic buildings. Finally, he handed her the dorm keys, his shirt damp with sweat. Aylin offered him a handkerchief. Surrounded by unfamiliar faces, she hoped others might mistake them for father and daughter—a vanity of sorts, but not entirely unreasonable. Fatherly care shouldn’t be rare, she figured.

Once they were done setting up her new place, it was around two in the afternoon. Milan took Aylin to a nearby McDonald's, her first time there, her excitement clear on her face.

Milan enjoyed Aylin’s happiness, wishing she could always laugh so freely. From his wallet, he handed her two twenty-dollar bills and encouraged her to order whatever she liked. Generosity suited him, he thought.

But Aylin hesitated, unused to this kind of gesture from her father and unfamiliar with the process of ordering. Milan noticed her predicament and smiled, suggesting they order together.

At the counter, Milan ordered a chicken wrap, a cod sandwich, fries, two sodas, four spiced honey cakes, and two sets of wings—mostly items his son liked and others he chose by observing other customers. Spending fifty to sixty dollars seemed extravagant to Aylin.

“Jia Jia, I’ll head back tonight!” Milan announced.

Aylin nodded, “Okay.”

“Take care of yourself while you’re here.”

“Yes.”

“Call home often, especially since we worry about you more than Salem,” Milan said, feeling sentimental.

“I’ll be careful.” Aylin smiled to reassure him.

“You don’t have a mobile yet! Let’s check out the nearby tech plaza.”

“No need, there’s a phone in the dorm.”

“Nonsense, you need one with you. Done eating? Let’s go.”

Milan’s insistence led to buying Aylin a Nokia smartphone. She recognized the model from her friend Milena Gibson the previous year. Now, she felt like a pauper suddenly turned wealthy, overwhelmed by unexpected fortune.

That night, lying in her dorm bed, Aylin pondered the journey ahead in this bustling city. Would she hide in the shadows or bask in the sunlight? Her initial certainty about a fresh start had given way to a more realistic understanding of herself and the world. Yet, she resolved to seek happiness and find a gateway to joy.

Aylin slept deeply, only to be woken by the chatter of her roommates—girls she hadn’t properly greeted after her late return from seeing her uncle off.

“Hi! Morning!” Aylin called down from her top bunk, hugging her blanket.

A slender, dramatic girl clutched her chest in mock surprise, “Oh my gosh! You startled me!”

“When did you arrive? We had no idea!”

As Aylin got dressed, she explained, “I arrived yesterday. You were out when I set up. I was late coming back from the station with my… dad.” The fib slipped out without thought, irrelevant to her listeners.

The room held six girls: Wang Qian and Ren Bingbing from New York, Qi Xiaomei from Minnesota, Fang Jingjing from Los Angeles, and Aylin and Anqi from Ohio. Qi, bold and spirited, contrasted with Fang’s sharp wit and southern charm. Wang was the lively one, while Ren stayed out of sight—a “problem student” by reputation.

“If only it were Instructor Turner training us!” Qi Xiaomei lamented.

Wang echoed in her affected tone, “Yeah, with him, nothing would be too tough.”

Confused, Aylin asked, “Who’s Instructor Turner?”

Fang Jingjing nodded towards Qi, “Xiaomei, educate the newcomer!”

Qi playfully saluted, “Turner Edwards, male, twenty-two, six feet tall, one-sixty pounds, responsible for freshman military training. Report over!”

Anqi emerged from the bathroom, scoffing, “And their collective crush!”

Aylin simply nodded, unfazed.

The dorm vibe was positive, her new friends endearing. Distance from her family helped ease any lingering homesickness.

College life began with mandatory military training, the camo attire invigorating. Turner, the object of her mates’ affections, had her anxious. Though not unfit, Aylin dreaded physical activity, finding such movements awkward. Despite her peers’ excitement over their handsome instructor, she refrained from joining in.

“According to national policy, freshmen must undergo military training to build patriotism and resilience,” Turner addressed the group, noticeably tense. “This… this…” he stammered, forgetting his lines.

The girls laughed.

“Quiet!” commanded Turner. “In uniform, act like soldiers!”

Aylin didn’t wish to be a soldier but stood out for her seriousness, earning Turner’s approval. “Exactly! Like this!” he praised, pointing her out.

Suddenly the center of envy, Aylin felt uncomfortable.

Despite daytime exhaustion, nighttime energy abounded. Conversations spanned politics, folklore, relationships, even in the dark. The dorm phone was constantly busy. Long after lights out, Qi Xiaomei chatted with her boyfriend at another college, unabashedly romantic, enough to make her roommates blush.

Aylin questioned past feelings for Francis Lawson, wondering if they had truly been in love. She envied Xiaomei’s enduring romance, wistful.

“Did you and Francis ever…?” inquired Banqiao, curious about deeper experiences.

Caught off guard, Aylin felt her cheeks burn, grateful for the darkness concealing her embarrassment.

Days quickly passed, and by the evening of her wedding to Dustin Scott, Aylin faced a whirlwind of emotions. Following custom, they hadn’t seen each other the night before. Staying at an apartment rather than the family home, she was aware of her relatives' nervousness; they had come up with excuses for missing the day’s early preparations.

After bathing, she noted the silence. Away from the Scotts, her family seemed subdued, perhaps nostalgic. She knew Milan Parker had treated her like a daughter.

“Dad, everyone will make it tomorrow morning?” Aylin asked, drying her hair.

“Yes, your aunt called this morning,” he replied, his frequent blinking betraying stress.

She ensured they got rest, aware of the busy day ahead, and retreated to Eren Murray’s former room.

Though aware of the little white lies, Aylin chose not to expose them. Maybe genuine issues had arisen, but she accepted their intent to maintain a smooth ceremony.

Despite the drama, the wedding day was bright and clear. Aylin greeted guests at the lavish venue, composed and gracious, surprising Dustin with her newfound confidence.

Guests admired her beauty, genuine and serene. The ceremony was filled with humor and traditional speeches, the newlyweds receiving blessings from all.

The feast reminded Aylin of past, simpler gatherings—extravagance didn’t go unnoticed. Whitley Murray spotted the untouched dishes, suggesting they pack some.

Aylin smiled awkwardly, “Sure, Mom. You go ahead, we’ll handle the cleanup.”

Back in the bridal suite, Dustin embraced her from behind, pointing at the bed now strewn with red envelopes. “Look at this!” he exclaimed.

“Oh my,” Aylin gasped, seeing the abundance of gifts. “This is too much!”

Dustin toyed with one, amused at her surprise. Among the envelopes, one stood out—a substantial sum with a note, “If you are well, it is sunny.”

Recognizing the handwriting, Aylin’s expression changed. It was from Raiden Palmer, a truth she kept to herself, overwhelmed by his unexpected declaration.

Dustin chuckled, “No matter who it’s from, the sentiment is clear.”

Elsewhere, Julissa Lawson lingered at the school gate, awaiting the stream of children. As her charge approached, she put on her sweetest smile, “Aeryn, here I am!”

Aeryn, though aware of Julissa’s presence, feigned ignorance, reluctant to accept her escort. The changes this woman had brought into her life left her unsettled, secretly resenting her for disrupting her family.

Aeryn huffed, “Why are you here? Why aren’t Mommy and Daddy coming?”

“They’re both at work,” Julissa replied, adjusting the child’s scarf.

Unconvinced, Aeryn pushed further, “Why aren’t you at work?”

Foreseeing the child’s relentless questions, Julissa countered, “Why aren’t you at work?”

“Because I’m at school.”

Ignoring the retort, Julissa reached for Aeryn’s hand, only for the child to pull away defiantly, demanding, “Who’s coming tomorrow?”

Julissa softened, “Who do you want to come?”

“Mommy! And Daddy!” Aeryn declared, her plea reasonable.

“Sorry, you don’t get to choose. Neither do I.”

Aeryn’s eyes welled with tears, her voice trembling with fear, “Does this mean they don’t want me anymore?”

Haunted by the thought, she wondered if her parents' absence was permanent—her reality more daunting than imagined. While Julissa treated her well, the longing for her family remained intense.

Julissa knelt, speaking gently, “Let’s call your dad when we’re home, okay?”

“Now!” Aeryn insisted, eyes hopeful.

“Okay, now.” Julissa dialed, hoping to reach Dustin, aware her number was blocked on his phone. Yet, Aeryn's cries once he answered unsettled him deeply.

“Daddy, I need you! Mommy too! Please come home!”

Hearing her sobs, Dustin’s heart ached, “Okay, I promise, Daddy will come home.”

“Really?” Aeryn brightened, clutching the phone.

“Really,” Dustin assured her, feeling a slight relief.

“Don’t break your promise!” She longed to seal it with a pinky swear.

“I won’t.”

Ending the call, Dustin couldn’t ignore his restlessness. He missed his daughter, their bond unbreakable. Though separated from Aylin, hope lingered, the tether of parenthood anchoring them.

Julissa, eager yet anxious, prepared a festive meal, hopeful Dustin would return. His absence was a constant reminder of her intrusion into his life—an uninvited guest.

Despite her resolve, doubt seeped in. She had been hopeful since Aylin’s departure, taking on the role of caretaker for Aeryn, yet the chasm between her and Dustin remained vast.

Hours passed, and Julissa’s anticipation dulled. By nightfall, she awaited the sound of his key in the lock, reluctant to disturb his solitude.

Aeryn, lulled by weariness, asked, “When will Daddy be home?”

Offering comfort, Julissa maintained optimism, “He’s just delayed.”

“Will he come?”

“He promised.”

Milan Parker took a drag from his cigarette, effortlessly exhaling a series of smoke rings that Aylin Scott found unexpectedly captivating. Taking a breath herself, she inhaled a trace of the smoke. Her action caught Milan's attention, and he softly asked, "Aylin?"

Though he was only her uncle by marriage, Milan often felt a genuine warmth toward Aylin—an affection that came from deep within, not something superficial. However, he was a man of few words, and he worried that expressing his feelings might intimidate her.

Aylin was caught off guard for a moment. She looked at her uncle and gave a gentle smile, responding, "Yes, Uncle?"

Milan responded with a bright smile, "You did well on your exams!" But his attempt at appearing relaxed came off a bit awkward.

"I... I passed?!" Aylin exclaimed with sensitivity, leaping out of the shadow of smoke with her words.

Milan made a secretive gesture, leaning in closer to whisper, "Keep it down; they want to surprise you!"

At that moment, Salem Gibson burst in from the other room, wrapping an arm around Milan's neck. "Dad! That's not fair! We agreed to surprise Aylin, and you've already let it slip. Mom, look at Dad! He's unbelievable!"

Julissa Gibson chuckled as she walked in. "You knew your dad couldn't keep a secret, yet you still told him!"

"Fine, I blew it! But let me tell the rest. Uncle, Granny, Aylin really made us proud this time. She ranked third in the entire city!" Salem announced, sharing the news with enthusiasm.

Aylin's long anticipation was finally fulfilled. She felt as if she had transformed from being invisible to becoming the center of attention—an experience she rarely encountered. She nearly forgot the coldness that surrounded her as her life suddenly seemed vibrant. However, she noticed her grandmother Kayleigh Gardner's tense expression, and her heart sank. Although she couldn’t predict her grandmother’s reaction, she knew it was inevitable.

Kayleigh, who had endured hunger and hardship during the 1960s to raise her children, never concealed her emotions. Among her children, she felt that she had made significant sacrifices. "Don't get too excited yet!" Her sudden outburst caught everyone off guard, disrupting the genuine joy in the room.

"Raiden Gardner, listen to me. If you have the means, pay for your daughter’s schooling—high school, college, even abroad. But if you can't afford it, don’t pretend otherwise. If you're out of funds, let your dear daughter work on the farm! I won’t spare a cent of my savings," Kayleigh declared. Though aware of her limited savings and the fact that Aylin's education was not her responsibility, what truly mattered to Kayleigh was keeping Aylin's mother out of the picture.

Raiden looked at his furious mother in shock, "Mom, what are you saying?!"

"Don't call me Mom! You ungrateful child! Your sister and brother-in-law stepped up to raise that unfortunate girl, and you wouldn’t let them! Now you want her to go to college? Do you have the funds? Where’s her mother? What about your responsibility?" Grandma Kayleigh stormed over, pinching Raiden’s leg. "It's on you! You brought that woman into the family, leaving such a burden. You deal with it!"

As bitterness welled up, Aylin's tears began to fall uncontrollably.

Julissa quickly comforted her, wiping away her tears. Her heart ached for Aylin. But knowing her mother's unyielding nature, Julissa knew she couldn’t argue right or wrong, so she tried to diffuse the tension with lightheartedness. "Mom, come on! We should be celebrating her success, not getting upset."

Kayleigh shrugged off her daughter's hand. "Stay out of this! Don’t waste your kindness on those who don’t appreciate it! Milan, Julissa, mark my words—if Aylin wants to continue her education, neither of you should help. Salem is about to start college; we need to prioritize that!"

"Mom, Julissa and I already discussed this—we'll handle the expenses," Milan said calmly.

"No, that’s not happening," Kayleigh retorted, her tone softening slightly. "I know you mean well, Milan, but it's a significant financial commitment. It wouldn’t be fair to burden your family."

Milan maintained his calm demeanor, “We’ve already planned for this.”

"I said stop!" Grandma Kayleigh banged the table for emphasis.

"If you’re not going to help, that doesn’t mean we can’t," Milan, usually a straightforward man, stood his ground. "Mom, I may be an outsider, but I’ve watched Aylin grow. This achievement is hers, and as her grandmother, you should be proud! Why would you deny her this opportunity? She’s your granddaughter, part of the family's future..."

"Are you suggesting I don’t care for her?" Grandma Kayleigh’s face flushed with anger.

"You know your feelings better than anyone, and I won’t say more!" Milan’s words were sharp, and everyone knew it, though no one intervened. This only fueled Kayleigh's frustration.

“Milan Parker, listen here! You once scraped and saved for Julissa to go to college, but now that life is better, you expect me, an old widow, to fund her education? That’s not my duty! And who are you to lecture me?”

Typically reserved, Milan was now resolute. “I’ll cover Aylin’s education and living expenses, no matter what. Raiden, she may be your daughter, but I don’t care about anyone’s pride in this family. I only care about Aylin's future! You all don’t owe me anything!”

With that, Milan Parker walked out, leaving behind a room full of stunned silence.

Aylin’s college days unfolded quietly, a peaceful and orderly experience in a place where no one knew or cared about her past. Just as she had hoped, she found happiness and calmness. Happiness, she discovered, could be simple, like chatting about nothing with her roommates. Before, she wouldn’t have believed she could share so much with girls her age or feel a sense of belonging. She wondered if she should have stayed in the dorms during high school instead of living with her aunt.

After their orientation concluded, the empty bed in their dorm finally got an occupant. A girl named Julissa Lawson moved in. Not conventionally pretty, she had a pale complexion and carried herself with stylish flair and a cool demeanor that drew attention.

Julissa settled into the last available top bunk, descending using the communal desk by the window. Her painted black nails added to her rebellious vibe. In front of five pairs of curious eyes, she ripped open a packet of instant mac and cheese, casually mixing the cheese powder without any introduction.

Cindy Larson fetched a thermos from the entrance, offering it with a friendly smile, "Here you go."

Julissa took the thermos, her long fingers testing the cap, muttering, “This is what you call hot water?” She set the thermos on the table and tossed the instant mac and cheese into the trash before striding out in her sneakers.

The five girls exchanged puzzled looks.

Cindy glared at the discarded food, frustration rising. "Seriously, who does she think she is? Not even a thanks, and she acts like she owns the place. I just want to...!"

Aylin gave Cindy a calming smile, "Let it go, Cindy, just let it go."

Eva sighed, "With her around, we should watch ourselves."

Faye glanced at Eva, "Watch ourselves? She hasn't done anything. Let's just go about our business."

Annie mused, "How’d she skip orientation? We all had to sit through introductions while that organizer droned on. Someone important must be helping her."

The girls watched Annie with admiration, nodding at her insight. Surely, Julissa was related to someone influential or was the daughter of a wealthy tycoon.

Faye nudged Annie playfully, “Don’t talk about my dad like that!”

“Oh really, since when did he become yours?” Cindy teased.

Aylin stayed silent, pondering Annie’s words. She thought of her good friend Milena Gibson, who came from a wealthy family yet was grounded and kind. She believed most affluent kids were well-mannered. But she didn’t argue with Annie, knowing Annie liked to assert herself and outshine others. Aylin preferred to keep the peace.

That night, the dorm was unusually quiet. It wasn’t about fearing Julissa but more that the atmosphere felt different, lacking the usual vibrancy.

The following day, on their first day of classes, the students were early and eager, yet the professor hadn’t arrived.

A petite girl, whom Cindy dubbed “London Sprout,” whispered to her neighbor, “Hey, did you hear? Our Literature Intro professor had a personal emergency. They've gone to Switzerland to recover. Professor Dermot Bell is stepping in.”

“Really? Is he famous?”

“Don’t say that! Professor Bell is legendary. Imagine, still charming at his age! I heard his wife is barely past thirty.”

“You’re kidding!”

Aylin deliberately listened in, her heart skipping a beat. She’d heard of Dermot Bell, a seasoned professor with national acclaim, often publishing in prestigious journals. He typically taught graduate students. If the rumors were true, they were incredibly fortunate to have him.

Shortly after, a distinguished-looking elderly man in his seventies entered, sporting frameless glasses and gray-white hair. He looked lively. The rumors about his much younger wife seemed to fit the mold of the older-man-younger-woman stereotype. Was this what they called “a golden couple”?

“If you're well, it's a sunny day.” These were both Raiden Palmer’s wishes and her new husband Dustin Scott’s promise. But what Aylin most wanted to know was whether her late love, Eren Murray, also shared this sentiment from the afterlife. From now on, her name, her soul, her body, her entire future belonged to the man before her. Did Eren, in some distant realm, comprehend all this? If he knew, was he shedding tears of sorrow or tears of joy?

A sharp pang hit Aylin, followed by uncontrollable tears.

Dustin cupped her face, kissing away her tears, “Trust me, I’ll make sure you’re happy.”

Aylin opened her eyes, damp lashes blinking up at him, “Dustin, if I’m not a good wife at first, please bear with me. I’ve married you, and I’m determined to love and protect you and our home.”

Dustin hugged her tightly, saying nothing. He understood his wife more each day. He also knew what she meant by “not a good wife at first.” Deep down, he was troubled by the fact that she still held a place in her heart for a man no longer living. Yet, despite his jealousy, his love for her remained unshaken. Love had a mysterious way of existing, regardless of the circumstances.

Suddenly, Aylin pulled away from his embrace, “Dustin, these days I’ve noticed something odd about my dad and uncle. My aunt and uncle keep saying they’ll visit but never do. Something’s being kept from me.”

Aylin didn’t need to say more; Dustin also noticed the change. Over the past few days, Raiden Gardner and Milan Parker, apart from their forced cheerful demeanor around his parents, were mostly silent. At first, he attributed it to unfamiliarity and them trying to restrain their joy to avoid seeming too exuberant. However, he eventually began to doubt whether they were truly happy. When he first met them in New York, they were very different.

“Maybe we should call them now? We’re finished with our wedding, and they might be more open.”

Aylin nodded, pulling out her phone to dial Raiden’s number. As the call connected, she was surprised by the noise in his background, “Dad, where are you and Uncle?”

Before Raiden could answer, she heard the announcement for boarding, “Attention passengers, the train to Los Angeles is now boarding at Gate D.”

“Dad, when did you buy tickets? Why didn’t you tell me?” Aylin switched the phone to her other hand, glancing at the clock by the bed—it was already 9 PM. She knew the train departed at 9:34, and it was too late for her to make it, “Dad, I’ve gotten married without a hitch, you can tell me now if something’s wrong at home, can’t you?”

Raiden didn’t respond, merely standing by the boarding area, phone in hand, and quietly sobbing.

Milan Parker stood beside him, speaking into the phone, “Aylin? It’s time we told you the truth. On the morning of January 5th, your grandmother had a severe stroke and was hospitalized. Her left arm and leg lost all sensation, and her mind is clouded. We didn’t want to tell you with your wedding around the corner—it was her wish too… She’s not doing well, Aylin. The hospital issued a critical notice. Your father and I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

Tears streamed down Aylin's face like a broken string of pearls. Her heart sank into a confusion of emotions: shock, sorrow, fear, guilt…

“Aylin?” Dustin asked gently, concerned by her expression. “What happened?”

Aylin turned off the phone, looking up, “Dustin, I need to go home. My grandmother is critical.”

Dustin lovingly stroked her hair, “Okay, let’s go.”