Chapter 7

I was shaking so hard in the car I couldn’t even grip the steering wheel.

Aves reached over and pressed down on my trembling hand.

“Don’t panic. I’m here. We can’t beat Henry, but we can think of ways to deal with him.”

“Why would he come to me?” I muttered. “It’s not like I’ve done anything horrible.”

I donate every year. I even sponsor several kids in rural schools. Karma should’ve been on my side.

“It’s random,” she said. “You just… happened to cross paths with him. Lucky you didn’t get hurt.”

She insisted I shouldn’t go home and said I’d be staying at her place from now on.

That night, I stayed at her home.

She lived with her parents in a small rented two-bedroom on the outskirts of the city. The moment they heard I was coming, her parents rushed to the market and cooked a feast—chicken, duck, fish, the works.

“Auntie, Uncle… you don’t have to do all this,” I said, embarrassed.

They ran a tiny store. Money was always tight. My friend didn’t go to college and worked as a hotel receptionist. Their family had never been the type to splurge.

“You’re Aves’s friend,” her father said. “We treat you like our own daughter.”

Then, somehow, the conversation drifted to my friend’s will—yes, the will she’d drafted two years ago—where she’d named me her sole beneficiary.

Her parents said they didn’t mind. Two girls should support each other like sisters.

I nearly melted from shame.

She had put me in her will… and I had never once put her in mine.

Thinking back on every man I had dated—each one ending in some inexplicable way—it was hard not to wonder if I really was destined for loneliness.

And now I’d managed to attract Henry, who might not even be human.

Aves had protected me nonstop, while I—stressed and irrational—kept snapping at her, accusing her of overreacting.

The guilt settled heavy in my stomach.

After my shower, I sat quietly at her desk.

If I wasn’t going to leave everything to her, I should at least give her a portion.

I pulled out a sheet of paper and began dividing my assets.

Three parts:

• One for a national welfare charity.
• One to establish a fund for children who’d dropped out of school.
• And the last third, to Aves.

I signed it. Pressed my thumbprint on the paper.

“Aves,” I said, handing her the document, “if anything happens to me, a third of everything I own is yours.”

She stared at the will for a long time, her expression dim and unreadable. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Why were you in such a hurry to write this?” she asked.

“Life is unpredictable,” I said. “Better to have things sorted.”

She nodded and tucked the will into a book before placing it in the drawer.

“Also,” I added, “when you have time, I’m transferring my apartment on East First Road to you. It’s close to your parents’ store. This place is too cramped. That apartment is 140 square meters, fully furnished. You three can live there comfortably.”

“No,” she said immediately. “You’re already giving me a third of your estate—how could I take your apartment too?”

“It’s not for you,” I insisted. “And we don’t know who’ll die first. If you go before me, you won’t get to enjoy any of my assets. I don’t need that apartment anyway. I’ll transfer it tomorrow.”

She didn’t respond, maybe too embarrassed to accept.

“Alright, that’s settled,” I said. “From now on, I’m coming here for dinner every night.”

Only then did she nod.

“Fine. Every night it is.”

Later that night, half-asleep, I heard voices murmuring in the living room.

“She wrote it. She already wrote it.”

The words sliced through my drowsiness like cold water.

I opened my eyes—Aves’s bed was empty.

Just as I pushed myself up, she opened the door and walked in.

“Was that you talking outside just now?” I asked.

A flicker—barely noticeable—crossed her face.

“My mom was asking if you’d gone to bed,” she said smoothly. “I told her you had.”

“uh-huh.”

Relieved, I closed my eyes again. Sleep pulled me under almost instantly.