A hard, solid body was pressed against me. Without opening my eyes, I curled closer. It was unexpected, but it felt good. Teddy always went grocery shopping around this time. I’d almost never woken up lying beside him.Today Teddy seemed to be in no rush either. As I buried myself against him, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders in a way he never did before. I entwined my legs with his and whispered affectionately.“Awake?”Instead of answering, he stroked my hair. Feeling spoiled, I nuzzled his shoulder and asked,“Teddy. Want to go grocery shopping together today?”“Hmm, maybe.”At his light reply, I shot my eyes open and lifted my head from his chest. Christine was leaning over me with a sly smile. Damn it. My hangover throbbed in my skull. I must have still been half asleep to mistake that enormous bulk for Teddy. I immediately dropped my arms from around Christine’s waist and flopped back onto the bed. She continued to stroke my hair as if nothing had happened and teased,“You broke up and didn’t even look back at that punk, but you seem pretty sentimental about it?”I was too tired to answer and turned onto my other side. Christine kept stroking my hair as I sank into the mattress.“Harry said you yelled at that nasty punk so much that he got completely discouraged.”“…I’ll get up first.”I had no memory of how I’d ended up in this bed. Last night’s memories were hazy. I’d drunk too much and ended up naked. But the before and after were clear. I had no idea whether Christine helped me dress or whether I never came. Rather than ask, I fished scattered clothes from under the bed and got dressed.I slid my legs into crumpled jeans, then hunted for a sweater around the bedroom until I remembered the one I’d left by the living-room fireplace. Christine watched me lazily from the bed, still wearing that golden wig, even if slightly disheveled. I zipped my jeans, found one sock, put it on, then went back around the room to find the other.Ding-dong.The doorbell rang briefly. I glanced at the clock—it was past noon. It had to be Harry. He often bought lunch at our restaurant and then visited Christine. Christine seemed to think the same.“He’ll sulk again when he sees you here.”“Why?”“I told him not to come near you. But it’s fine. If we eat lunch together, he’ll probably calm down.”She rose and slipped into her robe with an easy grace. I, still rummaging under the bed, replied,“No wonder he’s angry if you just yell without explaining anything.”“Who do you think you are, lecturing me?”Christine, fastening her robe, jabbed me in the ribs with her slippered foot. I found the second sock and glared at her with a scowl. She laughed mischievously and left the bedroom. I heard the front door open downstairs just then.I put on my socks, stood before the vanity mirror, roughly brushed my messy hair, and stared at the long row of cosmetics—lipsticks, brushes, palettes—feeling dazed. The outside world was unusually quiet. When I turned, Christine was rigid in the doorway.“What the—”Before I could call to her, her face went pale, and she hissed, “Go!” so quietly it barely registered, yet sounded like a scream.“What’s—”She snapped the bedroom door shut, shaking her head, then grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the window. She flung it open and motioned urgently into the garden.“Out! This way, quickly! Don’t let them see you. Hide behind the garden. Hurry!”“Christine, why—”Her force pushed me halfway through the window. I clutched the sill and placed my foot on the gutter, then shimmied along the wall. As soon as my hand slipped, Christine slammed the window shut, nearly pinching my fingers. But before she could latch it fully, I heard the bedroom door open. I pressed my back against the wall and listened.“Christine, what’s going on?”A young man’s voice, lively yet edged with complaint. Definitely not Harry.“Running to your room like you saw a ghost.”“I just woke up. By the way, Tim, what are you doing here so early?”“You just woke up? Then what’s that wig on your head?”“What, is this an interrogation?”Despite her annoyance, Christine smoothly replied,“I drank too much last night and couldn’t take off the wig before I fell asleep. But you showed up at the door this morning, so I came back to check the mirror.”“Huh. Who’d you drink with?”“Harry.”Peering through the cracked window, I strained to eavesdrop. Whoever “Tim” was, Christine hadn’t wanted him to see me. Maybe he was her new boyfriend—but there was no sign of one anywhere in this house.Footsteps crossed the room; I jumped down. The lawn was soft and muffled my landing. The grass was still damp from last night’s rain. I rolled and sprinted to hide under a wide parasol. The window above creaked as it opened, and the sill’s shadow swept the lawn until a rounded head peered into the patch of light. I pressed myself into the grass, barely breathing, as the shadow shifted this way and that.“Hey, Christine. Did you have breakfast?”The cheerful voice suggested suspicion was gone, and I heard the window slam shut. Still, I stayed frozen, not wanting to risk a glance. After a long moment, I sighed and eased out from beneath the parasol. In nothing but jeans—bare-chested and shoeless—I looked like someone fleeing an affair.As my tension faded, the chill wind felt piercing. I shivered and hugged myself, then hurried through the garden. Reconstructing the snippets of conversation, I wondered who that man was. He’d entered the bedroom and checked the garden as casually as Christine’s boyfriend—or perhaps the mysterious “bait” man Harry had mentioned. I regretted not overhearing more.Splashing through puddles in the garden, I emerged by the garage. A sleek black luxury car, glossy from the rain, stood by the driveway. A chauffeur leaned on it, smoking and looking at his phone. I could have cowered in the garden until this guest left. But I stamped my feet, rubbed my cold arms, and knew I couldn’t last in this weather.As I crouched behind a pillar, the chauffeur stubbed out his cigarette but dropped his phone. Cursing, he knelt to retrieve it. I leapt out and dashed past the front entrance—only to have the door fling open without warning. I skidded to a halt on the porch.“Who’s there?”A voice behind me. I looked down at my soaked socks and sighed, then slowly turned. My legs nearly gave out.“Interesting circumstances you’ve got there.”It was Hugh. The highest-floor boy. He was right where he’d always been. I could do nothing—could neither speak, run nor choke him out. I’d already done that once. I definitely had…“Who’s this friend of yours?”A chill ran down my ear. Even though I’d last heard that voice over ten years ago, I remembered it as vividly as last night’s talk. It was Hugh. It could be no one else. Hugh.“Looks like your secret lover, huh? Classic—running off with no shirt or shoes.”Christine answered calmly from behind Hugh’s back. I couldn’t move. Air felt too thin. My legs trembled as if tied. Hugh’s boyish face from Bluebell—on my cheek, in my eyes, on my lips—was unchanged. It was as if no time had passed, as if he’d awoken just as he was. His cheeks still held mischief, his red lips still lived with life. He was alive, fully alive, standing before me. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.Hugh looked healthy and free at twenty—just as at Bluebell. He stared at me quietly as Christine spoke. He took a step toward me; I couldn’t move—as if still bound by the leash he’d once held.“How pitiful. Caught and scared, huh? Don’t worry. I’m generous about Christine’s private life.”“…”“Well then. You look shocked. I need some water. Christine, could you bring me a glass? Whiskey’s fine too. What’s this friend’s name?”“He doesn’t need that. He was about to leave anyway.”Christine hissed at Hugh from behind him. I understood the meaning, but I was frozen. My trembling legs could only hold me upright. Christine’s words seemed to irritate Hugh. He frowned and looked back at her.“Sending him away with no clothes in this weather? Harsh. Go fetch some whiskey—and bring clothes for him too.”“If you care that much, I’ll walk him out myself—”“Ah-ha.”Hugh cut off Christine’s soft persuasion with a broad grin that made me shrink. He was untouched by the fire at Bluebell—no scorch marks on him as if he’d never been burned alive there.“So you’re protecting your friend, huh?”“Timothy… he’s in a bad spot, just looked after him for a bit, really. So just let him go…”Christine’s voice cracked with pleading. Hugh had no intention of letting that happen. He met Christine’s gaze, then turned to me. His brilliant blue eyes—just as radiant as they’d been—looked into mine and asked,“Friend, what’s your name?”He was asking for my name. You. You, the pup you raised with your own hands, had forgotten his name. My breath caught. It felt ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) as if I was surfacing, gasping for air. The cold air slammed into my lungs. Hugh watched me with a mix of anger and curiosity. Hating his bright eyes, I opened my mouth—but Christine beat me to it.“Rachel.”“…”“What are you dawdling for? Just go on. Timothy, please, that’s enough now.”“Rachel, huh?”Hugh’s lips curled upward. He leaned in, whispering playfully,“Cute, Rachel. I like you.”A shiver raced down my spine.“All right, come to the feast tonight too. What do you think, Christine? Good idea?”“Tim… Rachel’s just someone we picked up from the strip club. She’s got nothing to do with me…”“Even better. So she works at Moulin Rouge, like Harriet? Then she needs a special mask. What should it be?”Hugh licked his red lips with a tongue even redder and said,“She’s a timid one, so let’s choose a rabbit.”I stared at Hugh without a word. He didn’t seem uncomfortable under my gaze. Rather, he met my eyes as if welcoming me while saying, come on, give me one. “Rachel.” A name he called me as if I were a stranger.Hugh lightly kissed my cheek, greeted Christine, and walked off into the garden. I stood frozen, replaying the warmth of his lips on my skin. Still warm and soft… the lips of someone alive. Even as his car’s engine faded, I couldn’t move. I remained rooted, recalling the boy from long ago, and trembled.When the engine stopped altogether, Christine grabbed my wrist. She wordlessly pulled me back inside. With each step, I felt reality creeping back. The warmth on my cheek began to fade. As my senses sharpened and colors returned to the room, I twisted Christine’s arm and shoved him against the wall. My hand tightened on his collar until it went white.“How—”My body shook uncontrollably.“How—”

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