Our Agreement

The moment Yvonne Reed, my adoptive sister, saw how eager I was, she let out a mocking laugh. "Seriously, Tessa? Have you never seen a man before? I can't believe you're drooling over a broke loser."

She tossed her phone at me so I could read her chat with her online boyfriend for myself.

"Since you're that desperate, I'll just give him to you. Leave with him—and it'd be best if you never came back," she spat.

I swallowed her cold sarcasm and kept my expression neutral. Once I had quickly memorized every detail I needed, I finally mustered my courage and walked up to the online boyfriend Yvonne no longer wanted.

"Hi, I'm Cindy, the one who's been chatting with you. My real name is Tessa Reed." I smiled and held out my hand.

The man's eyes lit up, clearly surprised. "So this is what you look like. You're even prettier than I imagined. Nice to meet you. My real name is Calvin Fulton."

Before this, Yvonne had only sent him a few blurry side-profile and back-view photos. Our figures were similar enough that he didn't suspect a thing.

When I shook his hand, I carefully counted the long string of numbers floating above his head. I wasn't mistaken—it was ten digits long. But what shocked me even more was that the number was steadily and rapidly increasing.

Was this what being rich was like? Calvin literally didn't have to lift a finger. He could just laze around and live off interest, and he'd still be filthy rich.

If I could latch onto him… I wouldn't just escape my family; I probably wouldn't even need to worry about the rest of my life anymore.

While I was lost in that fantasy, Calvin gave me a self-conscious look and said, almost apologetically, "I'm dressed so shabbily, and I could only come here on a rented bike. Are you embarrassed by me?"

He was wearing filthy, worn-out flip-flops, and his clothes and pants were cheap and threadbare.

Coincidentally, when Yvonne had chatted him up online, she'd played the part of a poor, pitiful young woman from a humble background.

I went along with that and replied, "All my clothes are my younger sister's hand-me-downs. Looks like you're just as frugal as I am. No wonder we got along so well when we talked."

Yvonne had assumed that if she could sell misery and pretend to be dirt-poor, she could win over some rich heir's sympathy and then get him to spend money on her. What she didn't expect was that Calvin would beat her at her own game and pretend to be poor himself to test her.

When he saw that I really was dressed plainly and that my skin was sallow and my frame a little too thin, his suspicion toward me eased a bit. But his test wasn't over yet.

"We can't just keep standing here talking. Let me at least buy you a meal," he said.

He quickly rented a bike for me. When he scanned the QR code to pay for it, he made sure I saw his old, beat-up phone.

I didn't comment on it. I just took out my own secondhand phone with a cracked screen and bought him a fountain soda.

"Thanks for being willing to come meet me. I'm really touched," Calvin said.

I wanted to see how far he was going to take this broke act.

After we biked for half an hour, he finally led me into a tiny buffet place where people could get all-you-can-eat boxed meals for 15 dollars.