Chapter 4

Clarence's POV

The cab pulled up downstairs at Serena's apartment.

I used the passcode she had given me that evening to unlock the door. The warm yellow light shone onto the tabletop, illuminating my document folder.

The folder had been opened, and the document inside had been torn in half, the pages crumpled and covered in large water stains. The ink had bled out, smudging the official seal and signatures into an illegible mess.

I picked up the document that had been torn in half, my fingers trembling at the jagged tear. It was a property transfer agreement.

Mom had planned to transfer ownership of the house back in our hometown to me. It was supposed to be mailed to my place.

However, when Serena heard about it, she said, "Have it sent to my place. I know someone at the housing authority. I'll handle the paperwork for you, so your mom doesn't have to go through all that trouble."

Now, it was ruined.

Mom would have to make another trip to the notary's office in our hometown to go through the entire process again. The original documents would have to be mailed again, followed by another wait of at least a month.

Mom's failing health could no longer bear such a strain. I lowered my head and stared at what remained of two months of hard work—two torn pieces of paper, crumpled and stained, with a faint shoeprint on them.

I dialed Serena's number. It rang for a long time before she picked up.

Her voice was hushed, laden with fatigue and impatience. "I'm at the emergency room. Blake's on oxygen. What do you want?"

"My property transfer agreement," I said. "The one on the desk in your study. Someone tore it up and spilled water all over it."

Serena fell silent for two seconds. "I don't have time for this right now. The doctor said he could've been in serious danger if we'd arrived any later."

"That agreement is Mom's—"

Serena cut me off sharply, as though she were a completely different person. "Clarence Calloway, do you really have to talk about this right now? Did you know he had an asthma attack and almost died? Can't you just get another copy of the agreement yourself? Stop pinning everything on him!"

She paused before adding, "He's still hooked up to an oxygen mask at the moment. Be sensible."

The line went dead.

Blake posted a new update on his social media. The caption read, "Had an asthma attack, and Rena stayed with me at the ER. Thank goodness I have her!"

Someone commented, "Serena to the rescue once again?"

All of a sudden, I felt exhausted. I wasn't sad or angry. I was just tired to the bone.

I locked my phone and prepared to pack the shredded document into my bag. While gathering the pieces, I accidentally bumped into the mouse on the desk.

The computer screen lit up, displaying a hotel booking website. There was an unread notification in the "My Bookings" column. "Check-out confirmed. Feel free to leave a review!"

The mouse was right beside me, so I clicked on it. The booking details were displayed on the screen.

"Guest: Serena Weston."

"Additional guest: Blake White."

"Hotel: A hot spring resort on the outskirts of town."

"Room Type: King Bed Suite."

There was a sentence in the special requests column. "Need a room with a private hot spring."

The booking was for three months ago, when she had supposedly been "away on a business trip".

I was dumbstruck. I felt as though an invisible hand were clenching my insides.

I didn't close the page. My gaze landed on the shortcut to the food delivery app in the browser's bookmarks bar.

I clicked on it. The order history showed there was an order that same weekend three months ago, delivered to that same hotel.

"Order time: 10:47 pm."

"Order: Two glasses of mulled wine, a fruit platter, and a box of condoms."

"Placed by: Serena Weston."

My eyes lingered on the words "a box of condoms" until the screen finally went dark, reflecting my own face back at me on the black monitor.

I suddenly remembered that night. I had sent Serena a message. "Are you tired from your business trip?"

She'd replied, "I'm okay. You should turn in early."

Consequently, I'd gone to bed.

Meanwhile, she had ordered a box of condoms and had them delivered to the suite she had shared with Blake.

I set the mouse down. I didn't cry, I didn't tremble, and I didn't smash a thing. I simply pulled out the suitcase I had brought with me from the closet and packed up all my belongings.

The moment the door closed behind me, the electronic lock chimed in the empty hallway. "The door has been locked."

I didn't look back. There was nothing left to look back at.