Across from me sat Timothy and Henry.The cafeteria went dead quiet.Every eye locked on me.Adrian reached over and tucked the loose strand behind my ear, frowning. "You're eating that?"I kept my head down and took two bites. "I'm broke. This is what I can afford."The four of them traded a quick look.Disdain flashed in their eyes—gone just as fast, replaced with polished smiles.***Timothy flipped the switch fast and grabbed my hand. "With that face? You're eating leftovers?"Before I could answer, he hauled me out, shoved me into a glossy black luxury car, and drove straight to Alverton's priciest five-star Michelin spot.I went still.Wasn't this basically my cafeteria?The head chef? My parents brought him back from Francia. On paper, he owned the place. In reality, he cooked for me.The second we walked in, the manager rushed over, ready to say, "Miss Blan—"I gave a tiny shake of my head.He swallowed and said, "This way, please."Finley pulled out a chair, al
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