William didn’t say a word the entire time. The teacher went over a few basic expectations for the shoot, and William just nodded along, calm and distant.

  When the two stepped out of the office, the campus had already emptied. Golden sunset spilled over the quiet school grounds, long shadows trailing across the pavement.

  They walked side by side in silence.

  Clarissa knew they’d have to work together soon, and no matter how strained things were, she figured it was better to break the ice now than later. She drew a breath and glanced his way.

  “William,” she started gently, “we’re starting the video shoot next week. The teacher gave us a script to go over... Do you want to choose a time, or should I?”

  William’s steps slowed just slightly. “My schedule’s tight. I’ll let you know when I have time.”

  “Then let’s exchange contact info,” she suggested, reaching into her bag for her phone. “It’ll be easier to coordinate.”

  As she looked down, she didn’t catch the way his throat bobbed slightly or how his fingers curled tightly at his sides.

  They exchanged numbers smoothly. Clarissa gave him a warm smile and adjusted her bag. “Alright then, I’ll head home.”

  But before she could turn away, William spoke again, his voice low and quiet. “Where do you live? I’ll walk you back.”

  She blinked at him, surprised. He added quickly, almost too casually, “It’s getting late. And with everything that’s been happening lately… it’s not that safe.”

  She remembered hearing about a recent rape assault near the school. The area was a little too quiet, a little too remote.

  Her heart warmed slightly. William… was being thoughtful. Protective. She smiled at him, eyes soft. “That’s kind of you. But don’t worry—my car’s parked nearby. How about I give you a ride instead? Where do you live?”

  William paused, expression unreadable. A beat of silence passed.

  “…No need,” he said finally, voice clipped. And then he turned, walking off without another word.

  Clarissa watched his back, stunned. Was… was he upset? She racked her brain, trying to remember if she’d said something wrong. But nothing came to mind.

  After a second, she shook her head with a small sigh. Forget it. No point overthinking. She turned on her heel and headed to her car.

  It was late, and if she didn’t get home soon, Clementine would start to worry.

  Clarissa had recently bought herself a sleek white Ferrari convertible. It was the kind of car she’d always dreamed of in her last life but never had the means to afford. Now, in this life, she got it effortlessly—with the same ease one might use to buy coffee.

  With a slight smirk playing on her lips, she slid into the driver’s seat and pulled the door shut with a confident snap.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Just as William wheeled his bike out, her car roared past him on the road.

  The wind caught her high ponytail, sending waves of her dark, waist-length curls trailing behind her like silk ribbons. She was wearing a crisp white blouse tucked into a short pleated skirt—but somehow, on her, it looked expensive. Luxurious. Even indecently elegant.

  William’s grip on the handlebars tightened. His cold expression didn’t change, but the corners of his lips drew into a tight line.

  It wasn’t until his phone buzzed in his pocket that he blinked back to the present.

  Back home, Clementine watched Atticus from across the room. He was curled up on the couch, reading quietly, his thin shoulders bathed in warm evening light.

  She moved closer. “Atticus, are you hungry? Want me to warm something up?”

  Atticus paused with his fingers resting on the edge of a page and shook his head softly. “No. I’ll wait till she comes home.”

  Clementine smiled, her heart softening. This child… always so quiet, so well-behaved.

  A moment later, the front door opened, and both their gazes turned toward it.

  Clarissa stepped in, her heels clicking against the floor, her bag slung over one shoulder.

  Later, the three of them sat down for dinner, the dining table aglow under soft lighting.

  Clarissa spooned rice into her bowl and casually said, “Mom, the school asked me to take part in a promotional shoot. Photos, video, the whole thing. I might not be home for dinner very often over the next month or two, so don’t wait up for me.”

  Clementine looked up, concerned. “A month or two? Sweetheart, you’ll still need to eat properly. I can bring you meals if you're busy.”

  “No need, really,” Clarissa said gently. “I’ll just grab something on campus. But…” She hesitated slightly, then added, “There’s also a piano segment. I’ll need to practice a lot at home, so I was thinking we should buy a piano.”

  The original Clarissa had won an award in a piano competition just a few months ago. But that was then—and this version of her barely knew where middle C was. All she had was muscle memory. If she didn’t practice, no amount of natural talent would save her from slipping up.

  Clementine nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! I’ll clear out the downstairs room tomorrow. We can set it up there.”

  “No rush,” Clarissa said with a smile. “We’ll do it this weekend. I’ll help clean and decorate too.”

  She glanced over at Atticus, who had just finished his first bowl. “You’re helping, too.”

  Atticus looked up with a mouthful of rice and nodded. “Okay.”

  Clarissa chuckled, noticing his empty bowl. “You’ve been eating a lot lately.”

  He nodded again. “I guess.”

  Clementine chimed in brightly, “That’s good! Growing boys should eat. I’ll get you another bowl.”

  Without waiting, she scooped a generous portion into Atticus’s bowl. He didn’t say a word—just picked up his chopsticks and began eating again.

  Clarissa frowned slightly. “You can increase the portions gradually, but don’t overload your stomach all at once, okay? It’s not good for digestion.”

  Atticus gave a short “Mm” in response, then quietly stood up and headed back to his room once he was done.

  As his small frame disappeared down the hallway, Clarissa stared after him, her smile fading.

  She made a mental note: once she got the school’s video shoot settled, she’d pay a visit to Atticus’s school to see what was going on with him.

  Meanwhile, news that Clarissa and William had been chosen to film the school’s official promotional video spread like wildfire.

  Rehearsals hadn’t even started yet, but students were already flocking to the location, eager to sneak a peek.

  Clarissa wore a long, flowing skirt that brushed against her ankles with every step. Her ponytail was tied low at the nape of her neck—a complete departure from her usual look. But somehow, the understated elegance made her even more arresting.

  William, on the other hand, hadn’t changed at all. Calm, cool, and handsome like moonlight breaking through the clouds. And Clarissa—sharp-eyed, graceful, glowing. When the two of them stood side by side, they were a picture-perfect pair: the kind of beauty that made people stop and stare, unwilling to look away.

  Lately, Clarissa had been coming home around six or seven every evening, her days consumed with rehearsal prep.

  On the weekend, Atticus had club business to handle and wouldn't be home until later. So Clarissa and Clementine took the time to clean out the downstairs room together.

  By the end of the day, the space was completely transformed—new curtains, a fresh gardenia centerpiece on the table, a white fox fur rug. And in the center of it all stood a sleek silver-white grand piano.