Helen

WHEN SAMANTHA woke up the next day, Helen was already gone. Which seems weird. Because Helen usually informs her whenever she’s leaving. And the weird thing was—he got the news from her father. Andrius also leave home too early since he got an important shoot from Mr. Monde’s company.

“Dad.”

Her father who was reading a newspaper peeked to the side. “Yes, honey?”

“Mr. Monde is your friend, right? The one who asked for Andrius’s service.”

Her father folded the newspaper and placed it on the side table beside the sofa. “Yes, why?”

“For how long?” she asked, and she bites on a stick of her strawberry Pocky.

The old man furrowed his forehead.

“I was talking about your friendship.”

“Oh. Well, I met him at a convention in Germany about two years ago. But we first met during an auction—I mean when I attended an event three years ago.”

Samantha creased her forehead and bit again on Pocky’s stick. “You mention an auction. What’s that for?”

Mr. Johansson sat straight and hemmed as he cleared hi