Chapter 3

Bobby let go of the door handle.

He rushed downstairs and saw Jasmine's flushed face—her temperature was obviously abnormal. "I'll get the car. We're going to the hospital."

Bobby and Dennis took Jasmine to the hospital.

Meanwhile, in the second-floor bedroom, Zoella lay in bed. Her face was burning with fever, and her body was drenched in sweat.

All night, her body felt light and weightless as she drifted in and out of feverish dreams.

The next morning, the unending chime of notifications woke her up.

Annoyed, she grabbed her phone and unlocked it. It was a private message notification from a forum app.

She clicked in and saw nothing but insults.

She wasn't surprised. Last night, someone had uploaded a video of her pushing Jasmine into the pool, and it had spread all over the school forum.

Jasmine was popular, so naturally, everyone rushed to attack Zoella.

Zoella's head pounded as if it were about to explode. Without hesitation, she started fighting back in the comments.

She went all in—using every curse in the book, dragging in mothers, relatives, and body parts without restraint.

In no time, the thread exploded with thousands of replies. The forum admin panicked, thinking they were under attack.

After sending off her last message, Zoella tossed her phone aside and lay back down.

She didn't need to please her family anymore. She didn't need to care about her reputation anymore.

She was done holding back.

Before long, there was a knock at the door. A maid's voice followed. "Miss, you need to get up for school. You're going to be late."

Huh?

It hit her—she still had school today.

She splashed cold water on her face to snap herself awake.

If she wanted to get away from her family, she had to finish school and get into university—far away from here.

She changed into her uniform, grabbed her backpack, and headed downstairs.

Bobby and Dennis had just come in from outside.

Bobby noticed the flush on her face and instinctively reached out to check her temperature.

But Zoella took a step back, dodging his hand, and walked straight to the dining room.

She needed to eat. She had to get better quickly—she needed the energy to focus on studying and getting into Slyren University.

Bobby's hand hovered in the air for a moment before he awkwardly lowered it.

Dennis scoffed. "Told you, she's an ungrateful brat. And built like a damn ox. Unlike Jasmine, who's been fragile since she was a kid. She caught a fever just from falling in the pool last night. But Zoey? She never gets sick."

Bobby said nothing. It was true—Zoella had always been healthy.

He walked over to the dining table. "Jasmine is sick. While she's recovering, I want you to take care of her at school until she gets better. Got it?"

Bobby couldn't help thinking that Zoella was getting more and more out of hand. He couldn't pamper her like he used to in the past anymore. If Zoella didn't know how to be grateful, he would make sure she learned.

Dennis said, "Zoey, Jasmine's dad saved you, but you almost killed her. You need to take good care of her to compensate her!"

Zoella kept eating, forcing herself to chew despite having no appetite.

Only a hundred days left until the university entrance exams. Once they were over, she'd finally be free from this family.

Dennis, irritated by her silence, snatched her fork away. "Are you deaf? We're talking to you."

Zoella looked up silently. Her dark eyes were calm.

Dennis's voice hardened. "When Jasmine takes her medicine, you're to bring her warm water. At lunch, you go get her food and make sure it doesn't get cold. If she needs to use the bathroom, you will go with her. Her dad saved your life, and you almost got her killed. The least you can do is take care of her. Understand?"

Zoella's tone was indifferent. "Got it."

But that didn't mean she was going to do it.

She walked out of the house, her face blank as she lifted her eyes to the sky. She held back the tears threatening to spill.

Now that she had a second chance had life, she thought she'd grown numb, that nothing could hurt her anymore.

But hearing Dennis's words still felt like a knife to the heart.

She remembered how, when she was little and sick, Bobby had stayed up all night by her side. How Dennis had told jokes to make her laugh so she'd take her medicine.

But now, the moment Jasmine got sick, all their care and concern went to her.

Eventually, even when she had a fever, she learned to endure it alone.

Zoella forced down the bitterness, got into the car, and shut her eyes.

Just a little longer. A hundred days, and she'd be out of here.

When she arrived at school, she went straight to her senior-year classroom.

The moment she stepped inside, the room fell into an eerie silence.

Word had already spread. Everyone had seen her outburst in the forum comments.

Whispers rippled through the classroom.

"What the hell happened to Zoella? Did she completely lose it?"

"She must've realized there's no saving her reputation, so she's just given up. This is probably what she was really like all along."

Zoella heard the murmurs around her but didn't care. She dropped her bag onto her desk, rested her head on her arms, and went to sleep.

All morning, Zoella slept.

When the lunch bell rang, Jasmine showed up in the classroom.

With an IV drip still attached to her hand, she instantly drew sympathy and concern from their classmates.

Zoella frowned, shifted positions, and continued sleeping.

A few minutes later, someone slammed a hand on her desk.

Annoyed, she lifted her head, her dark eyes sharp and full of hostility.

Jasmine stood in front of her, flanked by two lackeys who looked just as impatient.

Zoella narrowed her eyes.

These two were Jasmine's usual followers—the ones who spread rumors, ganged up on her, and even made up stories to tattle to her brothers.

Jasmine's voice was soft and hesitant. "Zoey, what do you want for lunch? I can get it for you. Please don't be mad at me, okay?"

Zoella's reply was cold. "No need."

One of the lackeys snapped, "Zoella, don't be so ungrateful! Jasmine's sick, you know."

The other added, "Yeah! You should be taking care of her. She wouldn't even be sick if it weren't for you."

Jasmine coughed weakly. "Don't say that. I can take care of myself—I always have. Please, stop. I don't want her to get upset."

"You're too kind, Jasmine," one of the lackeys said bitterly. "That's why some people take advantage of you."

Zoella was running out of patience. She stood up, ready to leave.

Just as she stepped outside, Jasmine suddenly stumbled forward, knocking over the IV stand.

A glass bottle crashed to the floor.

And as if by some absurd stroke of bad luck, Jasmine fell right onto the shards.

Chaos erupted in the classroom.

Zoella's head pounded from all the noise. She opened her mouth to say something—then everything went black.

When she woke up, the sharp smell of disinfectant filled her nose.

The school infirmary?

"Your fever's at 39 degrees Celsius. Were you trying to slow-cook yourself?"

Zoella turned her head.

A tall, lean man stood by her bedside. He wore a white crisp coat and had a mask covering the lower half of his face. His eyes were cold and unreadable.

She recognized him. He was the new school doctor. He was handsome enough to have half the girls swooning.

But his mouth was razor-sharp.

Didn't he leave not long after he started?

Zoella sat up. The IV must've helped—she felt better.

She lowered her gaze. "Can I leave now?"

"Wait for your family. I don't want you collapsing on the way home and causing more trouble for me." Zach Holden leaned back in his chair, his voice lazy and indifferent.

He was definitely a sharp-tongued doctor.

Zoella's throat was dry. "I don't have a family."

The moment the words left her mouth, Dennis's frantic voice sounded from outside. "Jasmine! What happened? How did you get hurt this badly?"

"Dennis, it's just a scratch. Please don't blame Zoey. It was my fault—I was clumsy and knocked over the IV stand."

One of the lackeys chimed in. "That's not what happened! Jasmine was just being nice. She offered to get Zoella lunch, but Zoella turned her down. In fact, I think Zoella was holding on to a grudge! She tripped Jasmine on purpose—we all saw it!"

The other lackey quickly backed her up. "Yeah! Jasmine's sick, yet she was still thinking about Zoella! But Zoella pushed her down like some heartless monster!"

Then Zoella heard Dennis's voice, heavy with restrained fury. "Where's Zoey? Zoey, get out here! How could you let Jasmine get your lunch? Her dad should've just let you die in that car crash. At least then you wouldn't be here making her life miserable."

Zoella's lips curled into a mocking smile.

Everything was just like before. Whatever Jasmine said, Dennis believed.

The next second, the curtain beside her was yanked open.

Zoella looked up. Her face was pale, lips dry and cracked—her whole body weak and drained.

"Zoey, you—"

Seeing her condition, Dennis's anger stalled in his throat. For a moment, he had nothing to say.