Chapter 9: Bruises You Can’t See

But my mind was blank. I couldn’t give Nathan any reaction he wanted.

His burning gaze slowly cooled.

Just then, someone hurried over from the elevator—a middle-aged man in a suit, half a head taller than Nathan, but he bowed respectfully to the boy and said, “Young man, the car’s waiting downstairs. You’ll be late for school.”

Nathan lowered his long lashes, disappointment flickering in his eyes. Then he turned to leave.

But as he turned, he paused, frowning slightly.

He glanced at the glass window across the hall. “You should get that looked at.”

I followed his gaze to the mirror, seeing the rough bandages on my arm and right leg.

After arriving here, the system hadn’t given me any cheat codes. The little money I had barely covered food and rent, let alone hospital bills.

Nathan was already gone.

I looked at my blurred reflection in the glass.

The elevator doors slid shut with a metallic thud, cutting off the last trace of Nathan’s presence. I stood there for a moment longer, the muffled hum of the vending machine the only sound, before limping back into my room. Even the tap water stung as I peeled back the gauze.

I’d survived worse than online trolls, but their words still left a mark—like bruises you can’t see. No matter how tough I tried to be, the sting of their ridicule found its way under my skin.