CHAPTER 2: CHAPTER 2: BAD NEWS

Clara Sterling lived in a small county town in Crestwood.

She usually took the bus home.

At this hour, there were no more buses, so Clara requested a rideshare on her phone, but after waiting for five minutes, no driver had taken the order.

Just as she was anxiously pacing back and forth, a black Maybach slowly stopped in front of her.

The rear window rolled down, revealing an excessively handsome face.

Clara shook her head slightly, stunned, and said, "Silas Sheffield?"

The man’s features were exquisite, with deep-set contours, and his long, narrow eyes beneath gold-rimmed glasses exuded a cool sharpness.

As always, he was aloof and hard to approach, with an overwhelming presence.

Silas’s gaze lingered on her for a fleeting moment, "Get in."

His tone left no room for refusal.

Clara glanced at her phone again, and still, no driver had taken the order.

She bit her lip, hesitated for a moment, canceled the order, and opened the car door to get in.

Silas’s magnetic voice sounded beside her: "It’s so late, why are you alone on the street? It’s raining and you didn’t think to use an umbrella."

As Silas spoke, the driver, being quite perceptive, got out to retrieve a new, unopened towel from the trunk and handed it to him through the rear window.

The man took the towel, and with a casual gesture, handed it to Clara. His fingers were long and pale, with defined joints, "Wipe yourself off. Don’t catch a cold."

"Thank you," the girl murmured softly, like the buzzing of mosquitoes, as she unwrapped the towel and began to dry her hair.

The car’s heater was on full blast, gradually warming Clara’s body.

In the confined space, the cool, woody scent coming from Silas drifted into her nostrils, evoking some bittersweet memories.

Clara Sterling first met Silas Sheffield five years ago, when she was a sophomore in high school.

Her deskmate, Sophie Sheffield, was quite close to her, and one weekend, she invited Clara over to her house.

It was Clara’s first time stepping into a villa.

Standing in front of the luxurious mansion, seventeen-year-old Clara’s clear eyes were filled with awe.

It was also her first encounter with the stark disparity between wealth and poverty.

Sophie held her hand as she gave Clara a tour of the villa.

As they passed by the pool, Silas emerged from the water.

Caught off guard, Clara found herself locking eyes with Silas, stunned, as if seeing a divine being.

She had never seen someone so handsome.

His features were so impeccably sculpted, like the handiwork of the goddess Nüwa herself.

The golden sunset bathed him in a dreamy glow, droplets of water on the tips of his hair shimmered, and his toned abs were unmistakable.

In that instant, Clara heard the intense pounding of her heart.

Thump, thump.

It echoed infinitely in that summer’s evening.

She fell in love with Silas Sheffield at first sight.

This affection she had always kept buried deep within her heart.

Later, in the summer after she graduated from high school, Clara went to Sophie’s house again and heard from her that Silas seemed to have a girlfriend.

The girl had been close to Silas since childhood, was beautiful, and was excellent in every way—a perfect match for him.

Not long after learning this, at Sophie’s birthday party, Clara saw Silas’s girlfriend, who indeed was as Sophie had described—very compatible with him.

Seeing them standing together from afar, Clara’s inferiority complex was laid bare.

Her secret crush quietly came to an end that day.

"Where are you headed?" Silas’s cool voice pulled her thoughts back.

Feeling a bit unsettled, Clara said, "Silas, could you take me home? Something happened to my mom, and I can’t get a ride. I can pay for the fare."

"Address."

She gave him her neighborhood address.

With the car heater on, Clara’s clothes and hair dried quickly.

During the ride, neither of them spoke again.

As they neared her neighborhood’s entrance, Silas finally spoke, "If you need help with anything, just let me know."

Clara didn’t expect him to say that.

Perhaps it was just a polite remark; Clara didn’t take it seriously.

She politely thanked him, "Thank you, Silas. I’ve sent you the fare."

They had exchanged contact details before, but hadn’t really been in touch over the years.

After saying this, she hurriedly got out and rushed into the neighborhood.

The man watched her disappearing silhouette.

After a while, Silas finally looked away.

A friend called.

"Hey, why are you taking so long to get here? Did you get lost or something?" came the exaggerated voice on the other end.

Silas’s tone was cool, revealing no emotion, "Something came up on the way, got delayed. I won’t make it tonight. You guys go ahead.

"Really? You’re bailing on me again? What is it?"

"Something very important."

...

Clara ran all the way to the elevator.

Back home, her mother, Yvonne Sterling, sat on the sofa, looking pale and frail.

Neighbour Auntie Walsh was sitting by her side keeping her company.

"Mom, what happened?" Clara asked, panting for breath.

Earlier, Auntie Walsh had only mentioned on the phone that something had happened, but didn’t specify what.

Auntie Walsh sighed, "Ms. Sterling, you’d better tell Clara yourself."

"Clara..." Yvonne started to speak but hesitated.

"Mom, what exactly happened?" Clara’s heart was in her throat, a sense of foreboding pressing down on her, making it hard to breathe.

Yvonne looked at her, her haggard face full of pain, and hoarsely said, "I have stomach cancer."

With a buzzing sound, Clara suddenly had an earache, her mind went blank.

Neighbor Auntie Walsh said, "Clara, you should convince your mom. She’s only in her forties, she can’t just give up on treatment. If I hadn’t come over tonight to drop something off and seen the hospital’s diagnostic report, she probably would’ve kept hiding it from you."

"There’s no point in convincing me," Yvonne sighed, tears filling her eyes, "I have stomach cancer, not gastritis. This disease can’t be cured. Rather than emptying our savings for treatment, I’d rather leave the money for Clara’s education."

Clara took two steps toward her mom, her legs buckled, nearly causing her to fall.

Her voice was hoarse as she said, "Mom, what are you talking about? Is education more important than your life?"

Yvonne’s tears flowed as she choked up, "Clara, this illness can’t be cured. I don’t want to leave, it’s not that I’m afraid of dying, I’m just scared of leaving you alone."

"Then just live well." Clara sat by her mother’s side, rested her head gently against her mom’s, hugging her shoulders as tears streamed down, "Mom, please, let’s fight this disease together, don’t give up, I really can’t live without you, mom..."

Neighbour Auntie Walsh also urged, "Yes, Ms. Sterling, the doctor said it’s treatable. You’re only in the middle stage, there’s still time. Don’t give up."

Yvonne cried and shook her head, "Our family can’t go through such a financial strain. It took me years to save ten of thousands. I asked the doctor and the treatment would cost over a million, where would we get that kind of money? Even if we had the money, there’s no guarantee of a cure. Let’s just forget it."

"No." Clara’s tone was firm, "I’ll find a way to get the money, don’t worry about it. I’ve saved some money from my part-time jobs. We can use my savings for the hospital treatment. First thing in the morning, I’ll take you to Crestwood Central Hospital to check you in."

"Clara..." her mother Yvonne was about to say something more.

Clara, devastated, "Mom, I’m begging you, please? I really can’t live without you, can’t you just do this for me?"

Yvonne let out a deep sigh and eventually relented.

That night, Clara slept with her mother.

It had been years since the two had shared a bed.

Clara nestled in her mother’s arms, just like when she was a child.

"Mom, you’re the only relative I have left in this world, don’t leave me."

Yvonne lovingly stroked her daughter’s head, "Clara, you must take good care of yourself."

Clara grasped tightly at her mother’s clothes, "Mom, I’ll take good care of myself and you too. You’ll be fine."

The whole night, Clara barely closed her eyes.

She was afraid that when she woke up, her mom wouldn’t be by her side.

In the silence of the night, Clara cried herself dry, biting her lip in the darkness.