Kian’s mother unlocked the door, still chattering as she did."I stole this from Kian," she said with a mischievous smile.I couldn’t help but laugh. She was adorable.But the moment I stepped inside, I froze.The study was massive. One entire wall was covered with photos of me—pictures I had never seen before. It was as if someone secretly took them over the years.There were photos from middle school, high school, and college. Pictures of me at tutoring classes, working part-time jobs, handing out flyers, eating a bread. Even a shot of me on my first day at Homer Enterprises, striding into the building with determination.My breath caught in my throat.On the bookshelf, I spotted my academic records—high school transcripts, college admissions results, even my SAT score reports, showing my progress from a low score to a near-perfect one.Each one was neatly printed out, and beside them, in elegant handwriting, was a single phrase: "Well done."I recognized Kian’s handwriting insta
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