The bracelet had cost over 700 dollars. Shawn was still a minor—he couldn't legally work or earn money. He'd secretly skipped his heart medication, scrimping every penny just to buy me the bracelet I wanted. He pressed it gently into my hand. And what did I do? I frowned and snapped, "Why isn't it the limited edition one? I told you that's the one I wanted." Shawn stayed quiet for a long time before finally murmuring, "When I'm older… when I can earn money…" I cut him off, irritated. "I want to go home. I want to go back to Dad." His mouth twitched, and he slowly raised a hand to touch my forehead. "Leoly, are you running a fever? Is that why you're talking nonsense?" I shoved his hand away and stood up, my face full of disgust. We stared at each other for a long time—silent, heavy, the air between us thick with something we couldn't name. Finally, after what felt like forever, he asked in a broken voice, "You… really mean that?" I did go back. I returned to Stevie's house and slipped right back into the life of luxury I'd known before. Meanwhile, Shawn and Mom continued to struggle just to get by. He stopped coming to see me. Mom, ever softhearted, tried to talk him around. "Leoly's never known hardship. She's young—she doesn't understand. Don't blame her." Eventually, he gave in and visited occasionally. But we had grown distant—so distant it felt like we were strangers. I went back to my old school, surrounded once again by wealth and privilege. But Shawn was no longer there. Shawn was a top student, and thanks to his situation, he received financial aid from his school's principal. With that monthly support, life for him and Mom finally started to improve—bit by bit. And so we went on, living separate lives. Until I turned sixteen. That year, Mom's health—always fragile—took a turn for the worse. She was rushed into the ICU, and we got a critical condition notice. That night, I was on a luxury cruise, celebrating Stevie's birthday. While fireworks lit up the sky and music blasted from the deck, I got a call from Shawn. It was the first time I'd ever heard him cry—raw, broken, completely lost. His voice was shaking so badly, I could barely understand a word. He said, "Leoly… come home. "Mom… she wants to see you. Just one more time." And I replied, "Dad's birthday party isn't over yet. "Maybe… tomorrow." By the time I returned the next day, Mom was already gone. Shawn looked at me and said just one sentence, "Leola Wells, I never want to see you again." It was the first time I could remember him calling me by my full name. I never saw Mom's body. Never found out where she was buried. And after that, Shawn cut off all contact. Seven years of silence. I jolted out of my thoughts, my eyes wet with tears. Outside the window, the sky had dimmed—it was already evening. I heard Joshua's voice next to me. "We're here. You're home." Maybe because I didn't move, he leaned over and gently unbuckled my seatbelt. Then he paused, frowning. "Are you crying?" Flustered, I tried to raise my hand to wipe my eyes. Whether it was the grogginess from sleep or my illness acting up again, it took me several tries just to lift my arm. I avoided his gaze, brushing at my face as I mumbled, "Must've been the wind… my eyes got irritated." Joshua didn't let it slide. "The windows weren't open." I had no comeback. He looked at me for a moment—frustrated, maybe even hurt. "Your dad's already in prison. "Why are you still hiding the truth from Shawn?" I stayed quiet for a long while before whispering, "Just let it be." He stared at me, eyes searching, sharp. "Wasn't it you who said—once Stevie was in jail—you'd finally go see Shawn? "Go visit your mom's grave?" I had no words. Joshua kept looking at me like he was trying to read something on my face. "Leola… is something wrong?" Panic hit me out of nowhere. I shoved open the car door and practically fled, hurrying toward the entrance without looking back. Behind me, Joshua's voice followed, growing fainter with each step. "Shawn's old principal called me yesterday. "Said he couldn't reach you… wanted to talk…"