Chapter 2: Rain, Accusations, and Alley Shadows

On my way home, I unfortunately run into the main couple icing each other out again.

It’s like déjà vu—same alley, same tension, different day. Seriously, is this Groundhog Day? I duck my head, hoping to slip by unnoticed, but fate’s got other plans.

Jason’s mom is the Sterlings’ housekeeper, and she got hit by a car heading home last night.

There’s a hush in the air, the kind that makes you suck in your breath and wait for the other shoe to drop. Jason’s face is pale, his hands shaking as he scrolls through his phone.

Jason thinks Charlotte did it on purpose to get back at him for breaking up and embarrassing her as the heiress.

It’s a wild accusation, but grief makes people say crazy things. Can’t really blame him, though. I watch as Charlotte’s shoulders tense, her eyes flickering with hurt.

"Charlotte, just because you rich folks have money, you think you can mess with people like this?"

His voice cracks, anger and fear mixing in equal measure. The words hang in the air, sharp as broken glass.

In the alley, Jason’s eyes are red.

He looks like he hasn’t slept, like the weight of the world’s sitting on his chest. For a second, I almost feel sorry for him.

"She’s my only family. If you’re mad at me, come at me. Why hurt my mom?"

Charlotte was hooked up to an IV all night at the hospital, and got bombarded with calls from Jason.

She looks exhausted, dark circles under her eyes. Her phone buzzes again, but she ignores it, focusing on Jason instead.

She comes to meet him only to get hit with this, her face going even paler.

It’s like watching someone get slapped in slow motion. I wince, but there’s nothing I can do. She takes a shaky breath, trying to hold it together.

"Jason, calm down, there’s gotta be some mistake..."

Her voice is soft, pleading. But Jason’s too far gone to listen.

Jason’s done listening.

He gets a call from the hospital and bolts.

He doesn’t even say goodbye, just turns and runs, leaving Charlotte standing in the shadows. The alley feels colder somehow, the silence pressing in.

Comments: "No choice, for the male lead to grow, the girl’s gotta suffer."

"Once he finds out the truth, he’ll treasure her even more."

"Hang in there, girl, the male lead always loves you deep down."

Fake comments.

I roll my eyes and flick on my phone’s flashlight, sweeping it over the alley.

There are always sketchy people hanging around Jason’s street. If he really cared, he wouldn’t have asked Charlotte to come here alone. That’s just basic decency.

Especially not when she’s sick.

You don’t leave someone vulnerable in a place like this.

Charlotte walks ahead, and I follow behind, lighting the way with my phone the whole time.

I keep an eye on her, ready to step in if anything goes sideways. My heart’s pounding, but I play it cool, whistling a tune to fill the silence.

I only leave after I see her safely out of the alley.

It’s not heroics, just common sense. I’m no superhero. Still, I feel a little better knowing she’s out of harm’s way.

Comments: "Damn, it’s this person again. Is this our girl’s secret admirer?"

"Can you get lost? The heroine belongs to our male lead. There’s always some shameless pest buzzing around."

"Seriously, leaving a girl alone this late? The male lead really screwed up. Riley is the one actually doing the right thing!"

The comments start arguing, loud as ever.

It’s like watching a debate club on Red Bull—everyone’s got an opinion, and nobody’s backing down. Welcome to the internet.

I ignore them, pull my hoodie tighter, and walk with my head down.

Sometimes, blending in is the best way to stay out of trouble. I shove my hands in my pockets, letting the city’s noise swallow me up.

I can’t help it.

Guess it’s just in my DNA—looking out for girls is something I was born with.

It’s not about the heroine. No matter which girl was here, I’d help her.

Empathy isn’t selective. If someone’s hurting, you help—end of story. That’s just how I was raised.