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.”

Aylin Scott finally managed to escape from the cold, emotionless house. As she walked from her aunt's home to the prestigious Dublin High School, everything seemed more vibrant than usual. The sky felt exceptionally blue, the grass greener, and even the scorching September sun seemed gentle. It was all like a dream, delightful yet surreal. Her dreams, which had been buried under her grandmother's harsh words and the cruelty of reality, were suddenly revived, and Aylin could hardly believe it was all real.

A young female teacher stepped into the classroom. She appeared to be around twenty-three or twenty-four years old, fair-skinned and attractive, with bangs framing her face and long hair cascading down to her waist. Her eyes were bright and expressive, and beneath her delicate nose was a gentle smile that seemed to hold an unspoken charm. Unable to resist, Aylin smiled at her. In a classroom filled with youthful faces, her smile was hardly noticeable, and nobody seemed to register her quiet joy. It had been a long time since she had smiled like that.

The teacher wrote "Marta King" on the blackboard and then turned to face the students with a bright smile, both excited and slightly nervous. "From today onward, I'll be your homeroom teacher. You can call me Ms. King or, if you like, just Marta. I just graduated from college, and I'm excited to start this new chapter with all of you. I hope we can work well together and tackle the challenges ahead as a team," she said warmly, her movements lively like those of a big kid. Aylin found herself captivated not just by Ms. King's appearance but by the vibrant energy she exuded.

"Now, let's take attendance and get to know each other." Ms. King stepped down from the podium with the attendance sheet in hand. "Jack Harper—"

"Present!" a voice responded.

"Abigail Wilson?"

"Here!"

...

"Aylin Scott?"

The classroom was silent. Ms. King scanned the room and repeated, "Aylin Scott? Is there no Aylin Scott in this class?"

The uncomfortable silence was overwhelming. Aylin felt as if she were sitting on pins and needles. Gathering her courage, she stood and stammered, "Sorry, that's me! My name is Aylin Scott!" As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized she had drawn the attention of the entire class. Her heart raced, and she couldn't remember what she had just said.

"Oh, really? I'm sorry, there was a mistake on the attendance sheet," Ms. King apologized with a smile and took a moment to observe the girl standing before her. She noticed Aylin's strikingly beautiful appearance—her long, dark hair framed her face, tied back simply, and her serene yet melancholic eyes. Despite her natural beauty, Aylin carried an air of aloofness and detachment. She wore a simple beige linen blouse, understated yet elegant. Ms. King touched her shoulder gently and said, "Please take a seat, Aylin."

Aylin sat back down, her heart still pounding rapidly, while Ms. King moved on to call other names. Aylin realized that the emotional turmoil existed only in her mind; it hadn't disturbed anyone else. Yet her heart continued to race for the rest of the morning.

"Hey, Aylin, let's be pals!" A voice suddenly spoke up beside her, startling Aylin. She looked over to see a girl with a charming smile, short hair, and bright, lively eyes. Her grin revealed dimples and a mischievous glint in her eyes, much like a playful kitten. Aylin hadn't even noticed she had a seatmate.

"I'm Milena," the girl extended her hand towards Aylin.

Aylin hesitated for a moment but then shyly shook her hand. "Hi," she replied, feeling slightly awkward. But soon she smiled more naturally, realizing that this new environment was a fresh, promising start—a vibrant teacher, a cheerful new friend. Everything seemed so invigorating, and Aylin was determined to adapt to it all.

In the following class, Mr. Garcia, the teacher, was intense and full of energy, his lectures lively and packed with historical anecdotes. They made the lessons exciting and engaging. However, Aylin still preferred the warmth and approachability of someone like Ms. King.

Suddenly, Mr. Garcia approached Aylin's desk and tapped his fingers pointedly on it. "This student, can you share your thoughts on digital literature?"

Caught off guard, Aylin stood up, her mind having wandered a moment ago. Perhaps Mr. Garcia had noticed her distraction and called on her to refocus. But she was surprised to be singled out on the first day. Regardless, she knew she couldn't afford to falter now. Although her experience with the internet was limited, she decided to speak broadly. "Digital literature impacts traditional literary authority because the digital age is open, with literature involving the masses. In this respect, digital literature surpasses traditional literature," she began, aware she was speaking generally due to her limited understanding.

Mr. Garcia, an apparent traditionalist who favored classical texts, seemed unconvinced. She caught a hint of dissatisfaction on his face through his thick glasses.

"You truly believe digital literature surpasses traditional literature?" His underlying question seemed to challenge her preference for traditional literature.

Noticing his skepticism, Aylin elaborated, "I was merely comparing their reach. Digital literature has a low entry barrier, facing challenges in maintaining quality. Yet the accessibility it provides allows anyone to publish freely without editorial gatekeeping or needing a renowned pen name, which can lead to a mix of quality. Overall, while digital literature might be seen as fast food, traditional literature remains like a fine dining experience. As life accelerates, more people choose the fast food option. It's not hard to see why."

Mr. Garcia's expression softened, and Aylin's confidence began to return.

"What's your name?" Mr. Garcia asked.

"Aylin Scott."

He nodded, recognizing that despite her earlier distraction, her analysis wasn't entirely off base. "What books do you enjoy reading?"

"Books by Steinbeck, Austen, and Hemingway," Aylin listed, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

"And digital novels?" Mr. Garcia prodded.

"Um..." Aylin faltered, realizing she had little familiarity with digital novels. It seemed this seasoned teacher was more current than she was.

Mr. Garcia smiled, "You might enjoy works like 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower' or 'Eleanor & Park.' They could broaden your perspective."

Aylin lowered her head in quiet reflection.

Mr. Garcia gave her a reassuring pat. "Impressive, keep up the good work!"

This unexpected acknowledgment from Mr. Garcia should have been a point of pride, but for her dorm mates that evening, it was hardly noteworthy. Instead, they were far more enthralled by Mr. Garcia's rumored private life with his much younger wife, nearly forty years his junior.

"Hey, I heard that once men hit a certain age, they can't keep up. But women in their thirties or forties have insatiable energy, right? How do they manage?"

"You think Mr. Garcia is having an affair?"

"Enough! Can we not meddle in others' affairs? Let's sleep!"

"Oh, by the way, Aylin, you made quite the impression today!" Milena acknowledged her for the first time.

Aylin smiled in the dark, about to respond when Milena mischievously added, "Just steer clear of that old lecherous teacher, okay?" she giggled.

Feeling as if she had swallowed something bitter, Aylin decided not to respond, pretending to fall asleep instead. Fortunately, Milena turned over and stayed quiet.

As her dorm mates began to snore, Aylin lay restless, unable to sleep. Milena's teasing had transported her back to a time she loathed, where she stood at the center of the world, exposed to all kinds of unwanted attention. Friendly, sympathetic, malicious, mocking, casual, or bored—it all centered on her, and she resented it. She was not naturally paranoid or self-important, but she had always cared too much about others' opinions. She despised being the focal point, resented the attention from everyone, including mentors, classmates, family, and strangers. This heightened sensitivity was a long-term effect of her depressive phase, a condition she called "heart prison." It was the root of her issue—a problem that refused to heal completely and would flare up with the slightest provocation. Deep down, Aylin longed for a door that would lead her to happiness, but she knew this college acceptance letter was not that door.

Unable to sleep, she was up early, wandering through the city streets as they stirred under the cold moonlight.

Aylin saw her grandmother's body around eight or nine in the morning the next day. The body was not taken to the funeral home but instead kept at her uncle's house. To prevent decomposition, the heating was turned off, and ice packs were arranged around Kayleigh Gardner's bed so Raiden, Aylin, and Milan could see her one last time.

Her face was pale, cold, and devoid of color. Aylin collapsed onto the bed beside her grandmother. Just days ago, her grandmother had been smiling and giving her advice, and now she lay there like this. Aylin couldn't cry. It wasn't that she wasn't hurting; it was that the pain was overwhelming, beyond anything she could have imagined.

Despite rarely visiting from London in the past decade, Aylin had spent nearly twenty years in close proximity to her grandmother. Kayleigh's unreasonable nature, her domineering ways, and her sharp tongue had given Aylin an early taste of life's harshness, teaching her how to navigate human complexities from a young age. They had shared a house, harboring mutual resentment that they used to get through the days. That resentment had persisted for so long that even when they could have lived harmoniously, Aylin kept her distance. But now, life had led them to this final goodbye, leaving much regret behind.

The mixture of love and hatred was a peculiar cocktail, both icy and fiery.

Emma Gibson gently helped her up. "Aylin, you need to accept it. Your grandmother passed peacefully."

Aylin nodded and turned to her brother, Salem. "Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t anyone tell me when Grandma got sick? At least I could have spent some time with her."

Salem remained silent, looking down. Dustin, Aylin's husband, stepped in to separate the siblings. "Aylin, they didn't want to worry you," he said, leading her back to the living room where Milan was sitting, lost in her thoughts. "Aunt Milena, we only found out last night. By then, they were already boarding the train, so we couldn't join them."

Milan sat silently, tears streaming down her face. Since Kayleigh Gardner had taken her last breath, Milan hadn't eaten or spoken a word. Her bond with her mother was deeper than any typical mother-daughter relationship. Milan had been old enough to understand the struggles when her father passed away. She knew her mother's hardships and loneliness, and she remembered how her mother had begged for mercy to feed their family, working alongside men in the fields, forgetting she was a woman.

Emma Gibson, holding a toddler, glanced at Milan and signaled to Dustin to follow her into a bedroom, Salem joining them.

"Dad and Uncle Raiden will be here by noon. Once they've seen her, we should call the funeral home to arrange the cremation," Emma suggested.

"But Mom..." Salem hesitated as he looked outside.

"We can't let her grieve indefinitely. We can't leave the body at home without heating. We might endanger the living," Emma's firmness seemed to echo Milan's resilience.

Aylin wiped her nose and nodded. "We'll follow Emma's lead. And we'll hold the funeral at the family home in the countryside. I'll head to the village to find Uncle Tadeo and the council to arrange everything. We can’t just wait for Dad and Uncle Salem to get here." Salem exchanged a look with Dustin, feeling a bit awkward. "Dustin, we know you just got married..."

Dustin playfully punched him on the shoulder, "No need for formalities."

Aylin suddenly remembered she now had a husband. She shot him a grateful look, noticing his tired eyes and feeling a pang of sympathy. "Salem, Dustin has been up all night preparing for the wedding. I’m worried he’s worn out. Let’s rest at your place for a bit."

Emma quickly took a key out of her pocket and handed it to Aylin. "Absolutely! You both need some rest."

"I have to get back to the village. There's so much to do."

"I'll go with you," Dustin insisted.

Given his insistence, Aylin relented. "Alright, we'll go to the village first, talk to Uncle Tadeo and Aunt Martha, and arrange everything. When Dad gets here, Salem, you can take Grandma for cremation."

On the day of Kayleigh Gardner's funeral, many people gathered from the village. Aside from the elderly, a few newly married women and young children, Aylin barely recognized any of them. To the villagers, the Gardner family was legendary—a grandmother once infamous for her shouting, a son notorious for a stint in prison, and a daughter-in-law who had worked in a nightclub. Yet, who could have imagined their granddaughter would attend an elite university and marry into an esteemed family?

Despite the whispers and gossip, one must never look down on others.

Raiden Gardner was weeping openly, a vulnerability he'd never shown before. Yes, he was grieving, but there was also a sense of losing a part of himself. His mother's overwhelming love had led to his idleness and previous family estrangement. In his youth, he had blamed her for not providing more for him. Now, with age came clarity about the greatness and selflessness of maternal love. But now, the opportunity to express that realization was gone.

Having been released from prison only six months ago, Raiden hadn't had time to prove himself