Chapter 4

Zoey's POV

Ian stood there as if the wind had been completely knocked out of him. "That's impossible!"

His eyes gradually narrowed as he gazed at me. "Your mother was a master at playing the victim. There's no way she—"

"There's no way she actually died, right?" I finished his sentence for him. "No matter what she does, she's always putting on an act in your eyes, huh?"

Elena's expression shifted too, and she immediately chimed in to play the peacemaker. "Calm down, Zoey. You're emotional right now, so you might be exaggerating. If your father's ex-wife is genuinely having a hard time, I'm more than happy to help out financially. There's no need to kick up such a huge fuss."

I didn't spare her so much as a glance. At this point, she was still implying that Mom was still alive and that she was just using this opportunity to cling to Ian.

I took the withdrawal application out of my backpack and smoothed it out on the table. The paper had been folded so many times the edges were frayed, but the words on it remained crystal clear.

"Due to the death of the student's guardian and the resulting loss of financial support, the student is unable to continue covering educational expenses and is requesting withdrawal from the institution."

Ian lowered his head, and the moment he read those words, his pupils shrank to pinpricks.

I stared at him, my voice uncannily flat. "After Mom passed away, I handled her funeral arrangements all by myself. I kept watch over her casket on my own. What were you doing at the time? You were paving the way for Eugene, playing house with Elena, and wishing Mom and I would just disappear!"

Right after I said that, tears finally welled up in my eyes. However, I refused to let them fall.

"Even on her deathbed, she was still making excuses for you. She told me you were probably too busy or that Elena might've intercepted our messages. Even until the very end, she was still telling me that once she recovered, she'd take me to find you so we could clear up the misunderstanding about that card. But she never got the chance!"

Ian's Adam's apple bobbed, and his breathing became visibly erratic. Yet, in the very next breath, he still said lowly, "I want to see your mother."

Looking at him, I suddenly found the whole situation comical. Even at this point, he still didn't believe me. He would rather believe that Mom had hidden herself and was putting on an act than admit that he had truly driven someone to a dead end.

I slipped my withdrawal application back into my backpack, spun on my heel, and walked out. "Since you insist on seeing her, come with me."

Without saying another word, I walked out of the school gates.

Ian immediately chased after me, still muttering to himself that this was impossible, still insisting that he had to confront her face-to-face.

The blood drained from Elena's face, yet she had no choice but to drag Eugene along behind us.

After taking a bus, we made our way into the decaying alleys of the old district. Hobbling in her high heels, Elena lagged behind, a permanent scowl on her face.

As for Eugene, he had never been to a place like this. He trailed along in silence, his head hanging even lower.

In the end, I stopped in front of a rundown tenement building. The hallway was narrow and dark, the wall plaster was peeling off, and the air was damp and filled with the musty smell of mold.

I fished out the keys and unlocked the door. The door creaked open, revealing the living room.

There was an old wooden table, a narrow bed, a lamp casting a warm yellow glow, and a small corner arranged neatly as a place of remembrance. Mom's black-and-white portrait sat in the very center, surrounded by white lilies, and there sat the urn containing her ashes.

Ian stood at the threshold. The moment his gaze landed on Mom's portrait, his body went rigid.

The color slowly drained from his face. At long last, it hit him that Mom was really dead.