Chapter 4

Inside, it was empty.

"Looking for this?"

Kathleen picked up the lab notebook off the desk.

"Give it back."

She flipped through a couple of pages, her tone all innocence. "I came in late, so there was a lot I couldn't keep up with. Francis said I could use this one."

The data in the notebook had been circled in red pen, a chaotic mess. Several pages had even been torn out halfway.

"What gives you the right to touch my data?"

I reached for it.

Kathleen stepped back and bumped into Francis's chest.

He steadied her by the shoulder, frowning.

"You scared her. You're leaving the country anyway, so it's no use to you. Don't be so petty."

I looked at him. "You gave my things to someone else, and you didn't even need my permission?"

"Francis, do you think that anything Kathleen wants, I should just hand over to her?"

I stared at him, my chest tight.

He said nothing.

The silence was already the answer.

I took the notebook back and tore it out, page by page.

That first half year in the lab, I couldn't do anything. Every day I trailed after him with this notebook in my arms, asking question after question.

He complained that I was slow, but every single time he'd take it and rework the whole thing from start to finish.

Now, though, there was no point in keeping it.

Francis's face changed. "What are you doing?"

"They're mine. I have the right to decide whether they stay or go."

I tore the last page in two and dropped it in the trash.

Kathleen's eyes went red in an instant.

"Francis, did I do something wrong?"

"This has nothing to do with you." He looked at me, his voice going completely cold.

"Back then you were taking morning-after pills four times a week and never said a word. What are you putting on an act for now?"

I froze where I stood, forcing the tears back down, then turned and walked away.

That night a post floated up to the forum's front page.

《The Story of a Girl at Our School Who Threw Herself at a Guy for Five Years and Never Made It Past Mistress》

The post named no one, but it spelled out my major and year plainly.

The poster spared no malice:

【This girl started throwing herself at him back in high school, followed the guy and applied to the same school, and still thought she was the real girlfriend.】

The comments were nothing but ridicule.

【Five years and still couldn't lock it down. She should find someone new to grovel to.】

【The guy's got it rough too, getting hounded by someone like that.】

Soon, Francis's buddy replied with a smirking dog emoji.

【If you know, you know.】

Francis didn't reply, but he liked that comment.

I stared at the screen, my fingers ice-cold.

Then I traced the account that posted it. It was Kathleen.

I posted the screenshots, and the next second, the post was deleted.

I posted again, and again it was deleted.

I took my phone and went to find Francis.

"Did you delete my post? What right do you have?"

"She's about to prep for grad school entrance exams. Your post could hurt her reputation and her interview."

"Besides, I already deleted the post she made. In a few days no one will remember."

"So my reputation, being gossiped about, cornered in the bathroom, having notes stuck on my dorm door, none of that matters?"

Something flickered across Francis's face, but it quickly settled back into indifference.

"No one's actually hurting you. Don't blow this up into something ugly."

Francis turned and led Kathleen away, soothing her softly.

"Don't be scared. I'm here."

That was a line he had never once said to me.

Not when everyone was pointing and cursing at me, not when I lost my mother, my home, and him.

He never said it.

I stood there, and all at once I understood something.

It wasn't that I had never won.

It was that every single time, Francis had never stood on my side.

The day before the graduation gala, Francis and I were assigned to co-host as a pair.