Chapter 2: Secrets in Carter’s Room

But then he handed the letter right back to me, just as quick.

I just blinked at him, totally thrown off.

He tilted his head, giving me this look. “What? Was there something else?”

I shook my head, but just then, I swear his finger lingered on my palm. Was I imagining things, or did he do that on purpose?

That weird tingle stuck with me as I walked away—only to find Lauren flipping off the air, muttering, “Stupid system and your dumb tasks! I just want to go home!” She looked like she was ready to fight the universe.

Me: …

What a feisty transmigrator. Seriously, she had some fire.

When Lauren saw me coming, she took a deep breath and pulled herself together. “Did you hear all that?”

I nodded and told her the letter didn’t get delivered. “Didn’t work. He handed it right back.”

She didn’t even look surprised, just tried to comfort herself. “He’s the main guy. Not so easy to win over. But I’ve already worked out a deal with the system. As long as he accepts the letter—even if it’s just for a second—it counts.”

But then her face fell again, all the fight draining out. “I just want to go home. The system said I can only leave after three tasks… Savannah, help me, please?”

Looking at Lauren’s pout and those watery eyes, there was no way I could say no. Not that I was soft or anything—mostly, I just remembered that ending. The one that still gives me chills.

Before leaving, Lauren grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Savannah, you’re the most understanding villain I’ve ever met!”

Me: …Thanks. (I guess?)

After school, I snuck into the last room on the first floor—Carter’s room. My heart was pounding for no good reason.

At this hour, he was usually out working his part-time job and wouldn’t be back till late. Perfect timing, I told myself. No way I’d get caught.

Carter was Mr. Hayes’s son—our family’s caretaker. When he was little, he was always tagging along after me, like my own little shadow. Even though he was only six months younger, I made him call me “big sis,” and he’d just grin, happy as a clam.

But somewhere along the line, things changed. When did that even happen?

Two years ago, right after freshman year, his parents died in a car accident. That’s when he moved in with us. After that, he got distant. Every time I tried to talk to him, he’d just look away, like he couldn’t stand being near me.

Carter was stubborn to a fault. He’d rather bust his butt at the local diner to pay his own tuition than take help from our family. I figured he probably really hated the Prices—and me, too. Especially since Mr. Hayes’s accident happened while he was driving to our house. That guilt never really left me.

…

Unlike my own room with all its warm colors, Carter’s was all cool blues and grays. The bed was perfectly made, barely looked slept in. I glanced around, got on tiptoe, grabbed the closest SAT prep book off his shelf, and decided to slip the letter inside. That should count as ‘accepting’ it, right? I mean, close enough.

But my hand slipped, and the book crashed onto the desk with a loud thud. I flinched, my heart jumping, and hurried to finish the job. Who would’ve guessed a photo would tumble out?

The girl in the photo had her head buried in her arms, fast asleep. The soft orange glow from a lamp blurred the edges of her face. Even though the shot was up close, you could just feel how much care went into taking it.

My breath caught. Because, holy crap—the girl in the photo was me.

Before I could even process, footsteps sounded at the door. My brain short-circuited and I hid the photo behind my back, panicking for no real reason.

Then Carter pushed open the door, eyes wide, staring at me like I’d grown another head. “What are you doing here?”

He’d just showered, a towel slung low around his waist. The guy who always looked lean actually had real abs—like, defined. Way more built than I’d ever expected.

My stare must’ve been way too obvious, because his ears turned bright red. He paused for a second, then walked toward me, expression unreadable.

Suddenly feeling super guilty, I grabbed a shirt from his rack and tossed it at him. “Clothes! Seriously, put some clothes on!”

Carter obediently slipped on the shirt, and only then did I finally snap out of my trance, cheeks burning.

Luckily, I was quick on my feet. I grabbed the workbook, pointed at a random problem, and blurted, “I just wanted to ask about this, but I guess it’s not a good time. Next time, okay?” With that, I tried to bolt.

“Wait.”

As I tried to slip past, he caught my wrist. Carter lowered his head, his damp bangs shadowing his eyes, and for a split second, he seemed like someone I didn’t even know. The heat from his palm made my heart pound so hard it hurt.

“Savannah, isn’t it kind of messed up to take my stuff and just leave?”

I dropped the photo like it was burning me and ran back to my room, totally panicked. I leaned against my door, waiting forever for my heart to stop racing.

The letter delivery had failed. Again. Ugh.

Then it hit me—why did Carter even have my photo?

I ran my hands through my hair, restless. Whatever. Aren’t I supposed to be the villain here? Maybe I should just toss the letter at Carter and tell him to deal with it!

So, the next day at school, I did exactly that. I marched right up to him, letter in hand. Carter went silent, lips pressed in a tight line—he looked genuinely annoyed. I kept my hands on my hips, but my confidence was definitely slipping.