Chapter 2

Leonard was also the same person who had driven Tamara to her death in her past life.

"You're back."

His voice was flat and void of all emotion.

"Leonard, this is Tiana," Mom said, nudging me forward with a smile on her face. "Tiana, you can refer to him as just Leo."

I walked forward and nodded politely at him. "Nice to meet you, Leo."

He flipped a page in his book, looking like he never heard me. A few seconds later, he finally hummed slightly through his nose.

"Mmh."

His gaze swept over my wet shoes, and I could see him frown slightly.

"The carpet was just replaced."

He looked back down at his book again and continued, "The first door on the second floor is the guest bedroom. It's already been cleaned up."

"Thank you, Leo."

Mom sighed in relief. Then, she began pulling me up the stairs.

"See? Leonard is a very nice person," Mom said, lowering her voice. "Just don't make him mad, and your life here will be pleasant."

I went into the guest bedroom. It was very large and empty.

"Mom," I said, stopping her from leaving.

"What is it?"

"Can I get a change of rooms?"

Mom's expression fell immediately.

"Tiana Browning! You've only been here for less than five minutes, and you're already making demands?

"What's wrong with this room? Isn't it a hundred times better than the doghouse your dad calls a home? Stop being such an ingrate!"

I watched calmly as Mom lost her temper with me. When she was finally done shouting, I said, "It's not that. This room is facing the north, and it's a little too chilly. I just want to stay in a room facing the south. I'm fine if the room is a lot smaller."

I was really freezing at this point.

The brain tumor had caused my internal temperature regulation to go haywire, and I constantly felt like I was living in a freezer. Only the sunlight could make me feel slightly better.

"Too chilly? Then turn on the heater!"

Mom thought that I was kicking up a fuss for nothing.

"The room facing the south is Leonard's study. The only other one is a store room."

"Then I'll take the store room," I said.

Mom's eyes doubled in disbelief.

"Are you crazy? Why are you insisting on staying in the storeroom when there's a comfortable guest bedroom prepared for you?

"Are you trying to make Leonard think that I'm abusing and mistreating you on purpose?"

Mom's voice was shrill and loud. I covered my ears because it was too noisy. I could feel the veins in my brain throbbing painfully.

"I'm just afraid of the cold," I said, repeating myself.

Just then, there were a few soft knocks on the door.

I didn't know how long Leonard had been standing there for. He was holding a glass of water in his hands, and there was a dark look on his face.

"What's the noise about?"

Mom's expression changed at once. Her voice shook as she said, "It's nothing, Leonard. This child is just being difficult and complaining about the room. I'm just teaching her a lesson."

Leonard looked at me, and I also looked at him.

He looked pallid. There wasn't any color on his lips, and he looked like he was close to death.

"Where do you want to stay, then?" he asked.

"In a room facing the south," I said, pointing at the end of the corridor.

"That's where we keep all the old furniture," he replied.

"That's fine. It doesn't matter as long as it lets the sun in."

Leonard went silent for a while. Then, he said, "Suit yourself. Just don't yell or make any noise in the hallway."

With that, he turned and left, not the least bit interested in the argument between Mom and me.

Mom then jabbed painfully at my head in a frustrated manner.

"Fine. Do what you want. What do you think people are going to think of me when they learn that you're living in the storeroom?"

I ignored her and grabbed my suitcase, bringing it with me to the other end of the hallway.

When I pushed the door open, I could smell the musty, dusty smell in the room at once.

However, I immediately caught sight of the floor-to-ceiling windows in the room. I knew that this room was going to be very warm when the sun came up tomorrow, and that was more than enough.

I made a makeshift bed on the ground and slid the photo album underneath my pillow.

My diagnosis was tucked inside the album. Nobody would go through my things anyway, unless I was a dead person.

I fell into a very deep sleep that night.

There was no shouting or hollering from the debt collectors in my dreams. There was nothing but an endless abyss of darkness instead.