Chapter 2: Unforgivable Shadows

What did that mean?

My heart skipped. I pressed my lips together, trying to keep my voice even.

“Derek,” I asked carefully, “are you not wearing pants?”

On the other end, there was a violent coughing sound.

Derek, who was drinking water, choked so hard his pale neck turned pink.

Even the phone camera in his hand shook.

Just for a second, then it steadied again.

But it seemed...

I really saw his strong thigh.

It flashed past in the messy bedding.

Really, pretty fair-skinned.

My face turned red. “Sorry.”

I thought he was in the bathroom.

Didn’t expect he didn’t even wear pants to sleep.

Derek gave up and said, “It’s my room. Pants are optional. Unless you’re planning on making this call in person?”

...Oh.

A rush of images I wasn’t ready for hit me. My ears started burning so hot it felt like I’d pressed them against a mug of coffee.

I pictured that scene, and even my ears started burning.

I opened my mouth, hesitated: “That’s... not really appropriate, is it?”

Derek froze for three seconds, then angrily hung up the video.

“Melissa, you’re so annoying.”

The line cut off with a beep. I pressed my hot face against the cold balcony glass, wishing the night would swallow me.

3

It wasn’t the first time Derek said I was annoying.

He’d said it many, many times.

But he wasn’t wrong.

Someone like me really is annoying.

Derek and I used to be childhood friends.

But then my mom died, my stepmom had a baby girl.

The family’s finances suddenly tanked.

So much so that when my sister got sick, there was no money for her treatment.

Stepmom cried and begged me, begged me to borrow money from Derek.

“The Reynolds family is so rich, Derek’s an only child, you grew up together, he’ll definitely lend you money, right?”

I stood there, confused and lost.

The house always seemed a little colder when they talked about money. The walls felt thin, like everyone could hear us falling apart.

Dad crushed his cigarette into a chipped mug, stepped in front of me, and snapped, “Leave her out of this, Lisa!”

Stepmom wiped her tears, her voice rising: “Melissa is your daughter, but isn’t Lily your daughter too? Besides, if you hadn’t gambled all the money away, would I have to beg Melissa?”

Dad’s face turned red, and he actually slapped her.

“Then go ahead and die!”

Stepmom cried miserably, holding Lily and threatening to jump off the porch.

I held her leg, crying and promising, “Mom, I’ll go borrow the money, please don’t die, okay?”

She was my stepmom, but she never mistreated me.

She was just like my mother, married the wrong man.

Forced to live a poor and undignified life.

But I didn’t want her to end up like my mother, jumping off the balcony.

I’d already lost my mom.

I didn’t want Lily to lose hers, too.

The hallway smelled like cheap floor cleaner and desperation. My hands shook as I promised—anything to keep my family from shattering again.

4

That afternoon, I found Derek.

But the words “borrow money” just wouldn’t come out.

The little boy waited impatiently, pinched my cheeks and shook them.

“What do you want to say? Are we going to play video games or not?”

My face turned red, I stammered, “Can you lend me some money? I’ll pay you back when I grow up.”

Little Derek raised his eyebrows. “That’s it?”

He didn’t even ask what I needed the money for, just pulled out several wads of birthday cash from his nightstand and stuffed them into my hands.

“Can we play now?”

Just a normal game, playing house.

He grabbed an old towel for a veil, and we marched down the living room carpet, pretending it was an aisle lined with stuffed animals. He wanted to play dad, I played mom, holding my hand as we walked to the pretend wedding in the living room.

We’d played this game a hundred times, but Derek never got tired of it.

I still remember.

That day, when I brought the money home.

Stepmom hugged Lily, and almost knelt down to me.

“Melissa, when Lily gets better, mom will work and pay you back.”

Dad put on the act of a loving husband, pulled her up, scolded her: “Why talk about paying back in a family? Melissa has a friend like Derek, it’s a blessing for the whole family.”

Stepmom pushed him away, just hugged me and sobbed.

I heard her repeat over and over: I’m sorry.

Sorry, Melissa, I’m sorry.

The kitchen was warm with the smell of microwaved macaroni and Lysol, but it couldn’t wash away the ache in my chest. I thought I’d finally helped. I was too young to know what was coming next.

5

After that, a lot happened.

Lily needed to stay in the best hospital and use the best medicine, Dad hurt someone while drunk and needed to pay compensation, Stepmom was scammed out of all her money by a pyramid scheme...

I didn’t do anything wrong.

But in the end, I was always the one borrowing money from Derek.

No one ever apologized to me again, no one ever said they’d pay me back.

It all just became expected.

There was nothing around my neck.

Unlike Lily, who wore a gold cross Stepmom prayed over.

But my head felt heavier and heavier.

So heavy I couldn’t lift it in front of Derek.

And he had no idea.

I wanted something—anything—to make me feel seen. But my only souvenirs were guilt and the weight of being needed only for what I could take from someone else.

6

A few years went by, we grew from kids to teenagers.

The pens in our backpacks, the shoes on our feet, the tutors after class—gradually, people were divided into different groups.

But Derek always treated me as his closest person.

Of course he was confused.

Confused about why I was often distracted, why I avoided him.

He just thought maybe he hadn’t given me enough money, and my dad and stepmom were even harsher, even abusive, because of it.

So one afternoon in senior year,

Derek carried a backpack full of cash to my house.

Dad and stepmom were, of course, thrilled, warmly invited him in.

But I blocked the door, refusing to let him in.

Derek looked at me, confused.

“Melissa, what’s wrong?”

That was the first time I spoke harshly to him.

I told him to get lost.

I said he was disgusting.

I said I never wanted to be friends again.

Derek’s face turned pale in an instant.

Dad was so angry he wanted to hit me with a broom.

This ungrateful daughter, how dare she talk to the golden goose like that!

She’s had it too good!

The broom swung through the air, about to hit my face.

Derek pulled me into his arms, taking several hits for me.

His embrace was so warm, almost burning.

Like the summer I couldn’t hold or reach.

Summer is too dazzling.

How could someone as damned as me drag summer down with me?

The front steps were littered with dandelion fluff and last autumn’s leaves. I remember the sound of my heartbeat, wild in my ears, louder than the old house’s groans.

7

Behind me, Derek was still hurriedly trying to explain for me.

“Don’t hit her, I must’ve done something wrong. Here, here’s two thousand dollars, college applications are coming, make sure Melissa eats well and gets stronger.”

Dad and stepmom’s eyes lit up, hugging the bag of money, pretending to be polite: “Oh, how can we accept this...”

The boy was already going down the stairs, waving casually: “Remember to make more ribs for Melissa, the nurse said she’s too skinny, almost malnourished.”

That sentence completely broke me.

I don’t know where I got the strength, but I pushed Dad away, grabbed the bag, and threw it out the stairwell window.

The bag hit the lawn with a dull thud, scattering a flock of pigeons that had been pecking at breadcrumbs.

“Listen to me, I never saw you as a friend, you’re just my ATM, a sucker!”

Downstairs, Derek’s face was bloodless.

He looked up at me, lips moving, but he couldn’t say anything.

Behind me, Dad and Stepmom’s scolding and beating didn’t stop.

And I just clung to the windowsill, humiliating him again.

“Every day being friends with you makes me sick!”

“Take your dirty money and get lost, I never want to see you again!”

My eyes filled with tears.

But thankfully, Derek didn’t look back at me again.

“Got it.” After a long silence, he calmly picked up the bag. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

The boy left without looking back, his figure stretched long by the sunset.

His shadow melted into the golden light, and I stood there, wishing I could take it all back.

Until I couldn’t see him anymore.

Dad and Stepmom’s angry voices nearly shattered my eardrums.

But I just closed my eyes, letting the blows rain down, and smiled gently.

Go forward, Derek.

Walk toward the bright and glorious sky.

Don’t step into my muddy pit again.

The sun blazed gold across the cracked sidewalk, making everything shimmer. The world kept moving, no matter how much I wanted it to freeze.

8

In the two years after graduation, I worked frantically at part-time jobs, regularly transferring money to Derek’s bank account to pay back the debt.

Every time the transfer failed—

He hated me, hated me so much he’d rather not have the money.

We had no contact at all, until this time, my empathy doll was accidentally picked up by him.

A restless night ended.

I dreamed of his messy bed and strong thighs.

Really... ridiculous.

I woke up with my head aching, sheets twisted around me. The morning felt fragile, as if the world might shatter with the next text alert.

The next day, a classmate introduced me to a part-time job.

Dog walking at someone’s house.

I arrived at a big house in Maple Heights, and the person who opened the door was actually Derek.

After two years, he’d grown up, his features sharper, nose straight.

I apologized instinctively: “Sorry, I must have come to the wrong place.”

Derek said indifferently, “You’re not at the wrong place.”

He didn’t seem surprised to see me, just looked at me sharply and coldly.

“Daisy is in my room.”

His tone was just as distant.

Then he turned and left, clearly not wanting to say a word more to me.

The boy with red ears in last night’s video seemed like a dream.

I hesitated for a moment, then followed him.

The bedroom door was ajar, leaving a crack.

The room was dim, the little dog Daisy was sleeping soundly in her crate.

I was about to pick up the dog, but saw by Derek’s pillow what looked like my empathy doll.

It was dressed in a Gucci dress, a Coach hair clip, and a Tiffany necklace around its neck.

Pretty and delicate, like a little figurine.

Huh, didn’t he say the doll became Daisy’s toy?

I was about to look closer when Derek snatched it away and stuffed it into his hoodie pocket.

His profile was cold and hard, his speech fast: “Melissa, don’t flatter yourself. That’s just some junk Daisy got tired of. She insisted on dressing your doll, and I reluctantly decorated it.”

Strange chat overlays appeared before my eyes again:

[Excuse me? The main girl didn’t even ask, but who’s flustered, I won’t say.]

[Daisy: all I get are dog treats]

[Hello, I’m a scavenger. Give me the Tiffany necklace, thanks.]

The sunlight caught on the crystal doorknob, making everything look both unreal and hyperreal at once.

9

The chat overlays seemed to mean Derek lied to me?

I wanted to confirm.

But Derek’s face was already icy cold.

I didn’t dare say anything else, just put the leash on Daisy and walked out.

Unexpectedly, Derek followed too.

That’s odd.

When my classmate introduced the job, she clearly said the dog owner was too busy to walk the dog, that’s why they needed help.

Thinking of this, I quickly said, “I can walk Daisy myself. If you’re busy, you can go back.”

Derek squinted unhappily, his tone sour: “What, you don’t want me to come along? Think I’m annoying again?”

...He really remembered everything I’d said to humiliate him before.

My heart felt squeezed.

The feelings I’d been suppressing since seeing him surged up again, bittersweet and overwhelming.

I stopped and looked up at him. “Derek, actually what I said senior year...”

My phone rang.

It interrupted everything I was about to say.

It was Dad.

I instinctively hung up, but the next second the phone rang again.

Derek asked calmly, “Why aren’t you answering? Is it your boyfriend?”

I waved my hand and walked to the corner to answer.

“Melissa, have you thought about that guy I mentioned last time? He’s a little older, but his family got a big payout from selling their land, he’s rich, if you marry him you’ll be set.”

I couldn’t help raising my voice: “He’s forty-four, he could be my father!”

Dad chuckled indulgently: “You don’t understand, older men are more caring. Besides, he just wants to take you on a trip, you won’t have to spend a penny, it’s a free vacation.”

Just a trip.

He said it so lightly.

A man and a woman traveling far together—the meaning was obvious.

When I stayed silent, Dad said, “While he still likes you, hurry up and get him. Besides, didn’t you used to—”

My mind buzzed.

Those bloody, blurry memories filled my vision.

I screamed to cut him off: “Shut up!”

Dad quickly said, “Okay, okay, I won’t say more, calm down. Next month is your mom’s death anniversary. If you won’t see him, at least come back to leave flowers for your mom?”

No, Mom would forgive me.

Going back with you would be the real disrespect to her.

My fingers shook violently, I tried to hang up several times before I finally succeeded.

Call ended, phone off.

I realized Derek was still there, holding Daisy, waiting for me.

In the bright sunlight, his expression was hard to read.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you talk to someone so loudly,” he paused, his voice a little stuck. “Is that really your boyfriend?”

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, wishing I could wipe the last ten years away too.

10

I looked up at him.

The morning sun was so clean and bright.

It lit up the tension in his eyes, leaving him nowhere to hide.

I’m such a fool.

How could I ever think Derek was cold to me?

He was still that boy who, no matter how many years we hadn’t spoken, would still answer my call at 2 a.m.

But Derek, you’re destined to soar like an eagle.

And I’m already deep in the mud.

How ridiculous—just now, walking beside you, I even dared to hope that moment would last forever.

Wake up, Melissa, wake up.

Don’t dream of dragging anyone else into the mud.

“Yes, he’s my boyfriend.” I heard myself say, each word clear and sharp. “He’s from my hometown, his family is rich, he treats me well, we’re going on a trip together next month.”

Derek froze, his face turning pale.

After a long time, Daisy impatiently kicked her legs.

Derek finally recovered, his tone flat: “Oh, that’s good.”

After a few steps, he turned back, eyes dark, voice cold.

“But Melissa, let me remind you—if he’s so rich and still lets his girlfriend work part-time, your boyfriend is definitely a jerk.”

Suddenly, my heart turned unbearably sour.

I quickly turned away to hide my tears.

I heard him say behind me, “I’ll pay you for this month as usual. You don’t need to walk the dog anymore, so your boyfriend won’t get jealous.”

I wiped away my tears and nodded.

Wind swept through the oak trees as I walked away quickly.

I was afraid if I slowed down, my tears would fall.

Don’t do this, Melissa. You have no right to be weak.

Mom is long gone, no one will feel sorry for your tears.

But hurried footsteps sounded behind me.

Derek patted my shoulder, then quickly pulled his hand back.

His tone was dry, with a kind of desperate hope and struggle.

“By the way, before you answered your boyfriend’s call, what did you want to say to me? What about what you said senior year?”

A truck rumbled by on the street, its brakes shrieking, scattering a flock of pigeons. The air between us was so tense, I could feel it snap with every word.

11

Fifteen minutes ago, before the phone rang.

Daisy was wagging her tail, chasing butterflies.

Gentle sunlight overlapped my and Derek’s shadows, like an endless embrace.

I was bewitched by the breeze and the scent of flowers, and wanted to tell him that what I said senior year was a lie, I never disliked him.

Being friends with Derek was the greatest luck of my life.

But I couldn’t say it anymore.

Time is strange—only a quarter of an hour had passed, but the light had already faded from my world, and the shadows of the past swallowed me again.

So let them swallow me alone.

I blinked quickly, making all my tears disappear without a trace.

Then I turned around, showing just the right amount of contempt and sarcasm.

“What do you want to hear from me?” I stared coldly at him. “You want me to say what I said before was a lie? You want to ask if we can still be friends?”

The light in Derek’s eyes gradually faded.

But my harsh tone continued.

“Please, Derek, you’ve always liked pestering me since we were kids, and now too. What, you just can’t live without me?”

After a long time, Derek finally spoke.

His profile was hard, his voice cold as ice.

“Melissa, you really know how to play.”

“I’m pathetic, I admit it. Let’s never meet again.”

He turned and left, his back resolute.

Just like years ago, when he disappeared into the sunset without another glance.

Yes, it should be this way.

Derek’s family is wealthy, he’s an honors student, always the favored son.

Knowing someone like me is one of his few misfortunes.

And I actually hurt him twice.

Unforgivable.

But don’t worry, Derek, there will only be these two times.

Never again.

Really.

The wind brushed the treetops, gently lifting my hair.

I lowered my head, sniffed, and walked to the other side of the street.

Don’t look back, Melissa, don’t look back.

But I still couldn’t help glancing at Derek’s back.

Tall and thin, always in a gray hoodie, loose but stylish.

Over the years, I’ve met plenty of guys who liked hoodies.

None like him.

I paused at the intersection, letting the walk sign blink a little longer, pretending I had somewhere important to be. But all I wanted was to memorize the way he looked that day, burned into the morning sun.

12

In my fifth year of working, I finally paid off all the money I owed Derek.

This time, the money actually went through to his account—he didn’t refuse it.

Turns out, this is what it’s like when two people really draw the line.

I give, he takes, and all ties are severed.

Years ago, I worked myself to exhaustion, trying to send him money, but it always failed.

Back then, I thought Derek hated me so much he’d rather not have the money.

Now I know, he just couldn’t stand to see me struggling so much.

And later, I stabbed his silent affection once again.

I pressed my lips together, gulped down a big mouthful of bitter iced coffee.

Alright, Melissa.

Don’t think about the past. Focus on work now.

My desk was a mess of Starbucks cups, highlighters, and half-finished to-do lists. I cranked the AC up, drowning myself in work emails, as if staying busy could make the ache go away.

A few months later.

I was at a critical moment for promotion and a raise, busy with project data, when I noticed my boss’s subtle expression.

“Melissa, someone downstairs says he’s your dad. Go handle it, don’t cause any negative impact for the company.”

In an instant, my heart sank.

I ran downstairs, and sure enough, saw Dad.

After all these years, his back was hunched, and there was more white in his hair.

But those shifty eyes and greasy, cunning look were just the same.

As soon as he saw me, he was overjoyed, proudly glancing at the security guard.

“See, I told you I wasn’t lying! That’s my daughter, graduated from Ohio State, now a team lead in your company.”

The security guard just rolled his eyes and thumbed at his walkie-talkie, as if warning me, 'This one's your mess.'

13

I’m not really any kind of team lead.

My face burned with embarrassment. I quickly walked up and led Dad out to the coffee shop next door.

Dad looked me up and down, grinning. “Melissa, you’ve really changed these years. This outfit is nice, expensive, right? My daughter’s grown up, I almost didn’t recognize you.”

I looked at him coldly. “How did you find me here?”

I’d already blocked all my family’s contacts.

Dad rubbed his hands, putting on a flattering smile. “Your sister searched your name online, found you right away. You’re doing well at work, right? I saw you’ve won several awards, your salary must be really good now?”

I gritted my teeth, running out of patience. “What do you want?”

But Dad didn’t answer directly. Instead, he took out some plastic bags from his backpack. “These are all your childhood favorites—apple pie, blueberry pancakes, and breakfast burritos—things Mom used to make on weekends...”

I said coldly, “Five minutes. If you don’t say it, I’m leaving.”

He finally dropped the fake fatherly act and wiped his eyes.

“Melissa, I’m sick, there’s a tumor in my belly. The doctor says surgery could save me. If not, I’ll die. Melissa, can you—”

“I don’t have any money,” I said.

Dad’s smile froze. “Melissa, it’s not much. I’ll borrow some from relatives and friends, you don’t have to pay it all.”

I replied indifferently, “Borrow from relatives, borrow from friends, in the end I always pay. It’s been like this since I was little. Now I’m twenty-seven, still the same old trick?”

Dad was embarrassed, pleading in a low voice, “Melissa, you’ve always been so sensible. The past is the past. My illness is urgent—the doctor says treat it and I live, don’t treat it and I die. Melissa, I’m your real dad, you wouldn’t just watch me die, would you?”

I looked at him expressionlessly.

“Then go die.”

I could feel every eye in the shop on us. Someone’s phone camera was raised, recording, waiting for the next scene. I straightened my back and stared him down, not letting my voice shake.

14

Splash.

Scalding coffee poured over his head.

Dad slammed the table, his face red with anger.

“Melissa, do you have a conscience? I’m your dad! The one who raised you! I’m sick and you won’t even give me money for treatment? And you work as a lead in a big company!”

His voice was loud, people around started to look over.

He immediately found an audience, pointing at me excitedly. “Look, what kind of daughter is this? Raised her with good food and drink, now she makes money and is ungrateful! I’m sick! She tells me to die!”

I wiped the coffee off my face. “Then call the police. Whatever the court decides, I’ll pay.”

I grabbed my bag and left, ignoring everyone’s stares.

Dad panicked, grabbed my arm, about to kneel.

“Melissa, just ten thousand, just ten thousand. I’ll go to the hospital after, I promise not to spend a penny more. For raising you over twenty years, help your dad!”

I laughed and looked at him coldly. “Have some shame. Did you raise me for twenty years, or did I raise you for twenty years?”

His eyes darted away, not daring to meet mine, just repeating, “Melissa, just ten thousand, just ten thousand, I won’t bother you again.”

Such familiar lines.

Once said to others, now to me.

I thought I’d forgotten what happened back then, but I remember it all so clearly.

So clear that just breathing hurts like being pricked by needles.

So much time has passed, why won’t it let me go?

Fate is so absurd I almost laughed through tears.

I shook him off, stared straight into his eyes, and said every word clearly.

“Even if I die, you won’t get another cent from me.”

A toddler cried in the corner. The barista’s eyes flicked between us, hand hovering over the phone, ready to call security. I barely noticed. My blood was ice, my hands steady for once.

15

I turned and left, Dad hurried after me.

His chest heaved, face greasy and red.

This time he didn’t yell, but gritted his teeth in my ear.

“Melissa, if I die, you think you’ll be fine? I won’t get treated, I’ll tell stories downstairs at your company every day. What you did in college, those photos—”

My head buzzed.

I turned, incredulous: “Photos? What photos? You took photos too?”

Dad’s eyes flickered, lips trembling with excitement: “Just ten thousand, I get treated, we’re even, those photos no one else will know. Melissa, you have a great future, your dad’s life is worthless, I don’t want your colleagues to see those photos...”

Smack.

I slapped him with all my strength.

I lunged and grabbed his neck: “I don’t care! Go tell the whole world! Go tell the whole world!”

Bang bang bang—

Apple pie, blueberry pancakes, and breakfast burritos scattered to the ground.

Dad was pinned on the café table, face red, struggling to breathe, kicking hard, prying at my fingers.

Coffee cups toppled, spilling brown liquid everywhere, then fell and shattered.

I squeezed his neck with all my strength, my eyes red.

Die, die, die!

Shouts of alarm rose around us.

The café owner and baristas rushed over, trying to pull me away.

“Ma’am, ma’am, calm down.”

“Ma’am, let go, let’s talk this out.”

Suddenly, I let go.

Dad’s face was red, slumped on the sofa gasping for air.

The barista breathed a sigh of relief.

“Ma’am, whatever it is—”

The next second, I bent down, picked up the biggest, sharpest piece of ceramic, and stabbed it hard at Dad’s neck.

My breath came in ragged gasps. The world blurred at the edges—sirens wailing in the distance, voices rising in panic, but all I could hear was my own heartbeat, thudding like a fist against a locked door.

Blood pooled across the Formica tabletop, and I realized—this time, there was no going back.