Alaric wasn’t always like this.
When I was seven, my dad brought me to meet him.
I managed to stand out among all the other kids‘ talent performances with a rousing trumpet solo.
It actually made the little prince laugh–this boy who was used to being showered with praise and attention.
Eleanor Everhart was looking for a playmate for her son.
The company shareholders smelled opportunity and couldn’t wait to use Alaric’s birthday party as an excuse to parade their own children in front of
him.
If they could get in good with the future heir, they’d at least secure loyal friend status.
If it was a girl, maybe childhood sweethearts could turn into marriage prospects.
My dad was just a minor employee under Alaric’s father.
But he had the same idea.
After my trumpet performance, Dad was sure we’d blown our chance.
But the next day, Gregory Everhart’s assistant called and asked me to come back.
The second time I went over, little Alaric was coolly solving some complex puzzle cube.
He called it a skewb cube and asked–pretty condescendingly–if I knew how to solve it.
I grabbed one and fumbled around with it for ages,
Finally, Alaric and the butler standing nearby stared wide–eyed at the solved cube in my hands.
After a few more innocent playdates, Dad moved us to a place near the Everhart mansion.
I was pretty naive back then–didn’t understand social hierarchies or class differences.
I just knew I had fun playing with Alaric, though I did wonder sometimes why I could only play with him.
Dad told me I could only play with Master Alaric, that I needed to keep him happy so his job would be secure.
Eleanor used to praise me for being smart and lively.
Sometimes I’d overhear Gregory talking to people in white coats about how Alaric’s autism was improving significantly.
I didn’t understand what autism was back then–just knew that Alaric would sometimes throw random tantrums.
All the other adults were “afraid” of him. The staff and even his parents would tiptoe around him, trying to calm him down.
I thought it was weird.
Why didn’t his dad just discipline him? Or even yell at him?
But I wasn’t scared of him. When he threw fits, I’d just call him out on it. The only threat a kid knows how to make is:
“Fine! I won’t play with you anymore!”
It actually worked–surprisingly well.
Chapter 2
Alaric would stare at me in shock and grab at my clothes.
“I–I’ll stop. Please don’t stop playing with me.”
After that, he’d wait until I went home to have his meltdowns. Eleanor would threaten that she wouldn’t let me come over anymore.
Gradually, he became much more emotionally stable.
Later, after the doctor examined Alaric, Eleanor asked me to help him make more friends. I did my best.
I had this heroic complex back then–ready to take on the world for my friend.
With my help, Alaric started socializing with more kids his age and gradually became more like a normal person.
My dad’s position at the company kept climbing too.
Then when I was ten, something happened to Alaric.
He was kidnapped–and I was taken with him.
Girls develop faster, so I was taller than him, and with all those doctors always checking on him, I figured he was sickly.
Protecting the weak, protecting him–it was instinctive.
He was terrified, crying the whole time. I was scared too, but I kept comforting him.
Promising we’d make it home alive.
Late that night, the Everharts brought the police to the kidnappers‘ hideout. The criminals panicked and decided to kill us.
I was stupid back then–thought I was some TV hero saving the day.
Had no idea bullets would make you bleed, make you wish you were dead from the pain.
I spent three days in the ICU. When I woke up, I felt like I’d been to hell and back.
Seeing me alive, Alaric cried like a baby.
Our friendship deepened after that–we were bonded by life and death.
Alaric began to really trust me, sharing secrets he’d never tell his parents.
His parents treated me more genuinely too. Eleanor often said she wanted to officially adopt me as her daughter.
I was thrilled, but Dad seemed less pleased when I told him.
Though he’d actually been promoted to vice president after I saved Alaric’s life.
He scolded me: “What are you so happy about? If you become Master Alaric’s sister, how are you going to marry him?”
I didn’t understand why I’d need to marry Alaric.
But everyone seemed to think that way–they all assumed I had feelings for him.
But what does a ten–year–old know about love?
I lived in this bubble of innocence, carefree and pure.
We were little troublemakers–I’d help him skip class and sneak out to play.
I’d forge his handwriting to do his homework, and we’d cover for each other during check–ins.
I genuinely thought we were friends.
I thought Alaric felt the same way.
But after his autism improved and he could socialize normally, his parents transferred us to a school full of wealthy elite families.
Alaric started connecting with people from his own social class. He fit right into the world he’d always belonged to, becoming more and more like a proper “young master.”
Less and less like the Alaric I used to know.
He began to outgrow his need for me. Alaric no longer depended on me as his only companion.
My position became awkward around those rich kids–they’d always probe about who my father was.
They’d hint around, asking Alaric about our relationship.
Once they learned my dad worked for Alaric’s father, they’d all get that knowing look.
I’d constantly hear the wealthy kids gossiping about me behind my back.
Saying I was a social climber, that I was shameless, wondering what underhanded tricks I’d used to stick so close to Alaric.
At first, Alaric got angry when he heard those comments.
He defended me initially.
After Alaric lost his temper and warned them off, things got better for a while.
They still looked down on me, but they didn’t dare be so obvious about it.
Everything changed when Delilah appeared.
