Chapter 4

"Open the door."

I repeated.

The door opened a crack. Ethan poked half his body out, wearing my loungewear—the dark gray cotton pajamas I bought last year. He stood slightly to the side, as if embarrassed to let me see inside.

But I had already seen it.

On the living room sofa, a girl in her early twenties was playing video games with her feet up. My TV was on, she was drinking milk from my fridge, and her bare feet were resting on my coffee table.

Hailey Vance.

The sister who had allegedly "gotten into a terrible accident" and was clubbing at two in the morning. She looked perfectly healthy, not at all like someone suffocated by a $600,000 debt.

"Move." I pushed the door open.

Ethan was forced back a step, raising a hand to block me. "Logan, gentle please..."

I ignored him and walked into my own home.

There were two pairs of women's shoes and a pair of men's slippers in the shoe cabinet.

Unwashed dishes soaked in the kitchen sink, and a greasy pan sat on the stove. Ethan and Hailey's clothes were hanging on the balcony.

My bedroom door was half open. The bedsheets had been changed to an unfamiliar gray-and-blue striped set, and the nightstand was covered with Ethan's belongings.

In the corner, the cat condo was empty. The cat bowls were gone.

"Where is my cat?"

Ethan followed me, his voice soft. "Your cat was too noisy, and Hailey is afraid of cats. I sent it to a pet boarding place."

"Which one?"

"I don't really remember... I think it was on some road."

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. That cat had been with me for four years—a year longer than Chloe had been in my life.

Hailey didn't even look up, muttering, "Your tiny apartment isn't even that big anyway. I'm barely making do here."

I walked over to her and shut off the TV.

She finally looked up, staring at me with annoyance. "Who the hell are you?"

"The owner of this apartment."

"Chloe said this apartment will belong to her in the future."

I stared at Hailey for two seconds.

Behind me, Ethan's timid voice sounded again.

"Logan, there’s something... I didn't want to tell you originally."

He stood by the bathroom door, holding a pregnancy test. Two pink lines.

"Chloe is pregnant with my child." He kept his head down, his fingers trembling slightly, looking like a guilty child waiting to be scolded.

"She’s six weeks along... Chloe said she’d tell you after you moved out."

Footsteps sounded at the entrance.

Chloe pushed the door open and walked in. The moment she entered, she saw the pregnancy test in Ethan's hand. She froze for a second, then looked at me instead of Ethan.

Her expression wasn't one of shock or panic.

It was avoidance.

"You knew all along," I said.

She didn't deny it.

Ethan spoke softly, "Chloe, I'm sorry... I didn't want to hide it anymore."

She rubbed her temples and pulled a document folder from her bag, placing it on the table.

"Logan, you don't really live in this apartment anyway. Transfer it to my name. Now that there's a baby, we need a place to settle down. I have all the paperwork ready. Just sign here—"

"What did you say?"

"It's just a signature. Do a good deed—"

The doorbell rang.

Everyone froze.

I opened the door.

Two men in uniform stood outside, one of them holding a clipboard. "Are you Mr. Logan Miller? We are from the City Redevelopment Office. “

“We need to confirm some information with you regarding the eminent domain property buyout for this apartment block."

The air in the room shifted instantly.

Especially for Ethan.

The cautious, victim-like expression on his face vanished completely, replaced by a sudden, uncontrollable panic.

I turned around and looked at him.

His eyes flickered nervously. It was incredibly fast, but I caught it.

That was not the look of an innocent, mistreated man.

That was the look of a man whose golden goose had just been cooked.

"Ethan Vance."

"You knew this apartment block was going to be bought out for redevelopment all along, didn't you?"