Chapter 3

Strangers camped outside Martin's address for days after he was doxed. Ann had him move in with us using the excuse of safety.

However, she only informed me after all his suitcases arrived at the guest room.

"He's just staying for a couple days. He'll leave once the scandal blows over. There's plenty of rooms in this house, so you won't be affected at all."

I nodded without arguing, nonchalant. I'd be gone in a few days, anyway.

Martin established himself in no time at all, putting his white shoes between mine and Ann's. He even had his duty roster pinned on the fridge.

Even the servants were to cook dinner according to his work hours.

When Ann came home, she used to ask where I was right away. Now, she asked about Martin, while also always giving him rides to the hospital.

Once, when I sat in the front passenger seat, I noticed the seat was lower than usual. One of Martin's shopping receipts was tucked behind the sun visor.

Ann casually adjusted it for me while saying, "I’ve been driving him around a lot these past few days. I just forgot to set it back."

She said it like it was of no concern.

Still, I simply nodded and went back to organizing my late mother's belongings.

Although I had hoped these final days would pass in peace, things didn't go as planned.

Martin’s charity foundation was shooting a promotional video for a charitable cause. He had to pick my greenhouse, which my mother had dedicated heart and soul to.

Inside, my mother kept an original white camellia cultivated from a seedling, along with her flower catalog, horticultural journals, and photographs.

I had always forbidden outsiders from entering. A fact Ann was well aware of, but she let Martin in anyway.

By the time I arrived, the greenhouse was congested with his crew.

To set up their lighting, they had switched off the climate-control system, shoved aside the plant stands, and piled their equipment right on top of the vases.

While moving some gear, a crew member accidentally snagged an overhead light rig, which toppled over and crashed into the white camellia placed at the center.

The pot shattered, and the plant’s stem snapped clean off.

Standing at the doorway, I froze, my mind going blank.

Martin hurried over. "I’m so sorry, Mr. Jenkins! I had no idea these were so important to you."

Ann was suddenly at his side, checking first to see he wasn't hurt, before turning to me. "It's an accident, and that's just a plant. I'll buy you a better one."

I ignored her and walked towards the camellia, carefully gathering the broken stem.

Ann knew perfectly well that my mother worked so hard to grow it, and it was one of a kind… And yet, there she stood, frowning at the mess she and Martin made.

Far from feeling any guilt, her tone was reproachful as she continued to chide me.

"I told you long ago to clear out all this useless junk, but you just couldn't bring yourself to part with it. Human lives matter above anything else, and Martin almost got hit by one of those light fixtures. You owe him an apology for your negligence."

I was staring at my mother's catalog and journals, now a wrinkled mess after getting soaked in muddy water.

Rising to my feet, I turned and slapped Ann across the face. Her head snapped to the side, and it took her a while to turn to glare at me in disbelief.

"Sean!" Martin cried out in alarm and rushed over to separate us. "Please, if you're upset, you take it out on me! Ann was just worried about me…"

I grabbed the cup of coffee on the table and splashed it all over his face. "Shut up. You don't get to speak here."

Ann's face dropped, but even as she reached out, ready to attack, I held up my phone.

"I'm going to call the cops. This is my personal property, and you are all intruders who vandalized my late mother's possessions and nearly caused a safety hazard."

As I called logistics to move everything out, Martin became teary-eyed. "It's all my fault. I'll leave. Please don't fight over me."

Ann scowled at me, and grabbed my arm. "It's just an accident. Do you have to make a scene every single time?"

I shook her hand off and pointed at the door. "This is my property. If you can't take it, get off with him."

Ann held my gaze for a long time, but ultimately grabbed her jacket and left with Martin, slamming the door shut in my face.

I dropped to a crouch, picked up the snapped camellia twigs.

That same night, I sent all of Mom's possessions over to New Zulu and canceled my joint accounts with Ann, as well as insurance beneficiary and emergency contact.

As I packed my clothes, identification and Mom's old photos in my suitcase, my phone chimed.

It reminded me that there were just two more days left until my flight.