Atticus quietly took the seat across from her, watching as she ate. After a moment, he spoke. “This has nothing to do with you. I’ll handle it myself.”

  Clarissa chuckled, eyes twinkling as she swallowed her bite of food. “Handle it? How? Hand over every cent you’ve made from your part-time jobs?”

  Atticus fell silent.

  Still smiling, she picked up her cup and took a sip of milk tea. "Relax. That girl is soft-hearted. Just follow my lead, and I promise you’ll be fine."

  She didn’t give him a chance to respond before changing the subject. "By the way, why are you even here? I thought there was an age limit for workers."

  Atticus shrugged. "I don’t work here. I just deliver stuff sometimes. That guy from earlier works here—he asked me to help."

  Clarissa hummed knowingly. How many damn jobs does this kid have?

  "How much do you even make in a day?" she asked.

  "Depends."

  Clarissa pulled out all the cash from her bag and set it in front of him. "Take this. It’s yours. Just follow me today—don’t go to work."

  Atticus glanced at the stack. At least 800, maybe 1,000. His lips quirked, but he didn’t hesitate. "Alright."

  Clarissa finished her meal slowly, then stood, glancing at Atticus. She waved a hand. "Come on, let’s go."

  Atticus leaned back slightly. "Go where?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Where else? The hospital."

  Clarissa took Atticus to visit June after getting permission from her homeroom teacher.

  Outside the hospital room, Lyra looked less than pleased. When she spotted Clarissa approaching, she immediately stepped forward, her voice hesitant. "Sister... Clarissa, why are you here?"

  She had expected Clarissa to throw all the blame onto the kid next to her—or, at the very least, onto the library staff.

  Instead, Clarissa said, "This kid wanted to see June and take responsibility for her medical expenses, so I brought him."

  Atticus took a small step forward, lowering his gaze just as Clarissa had coached him. In a soft voice, he murmured, "I’m sorry, sister. I didn’t mean to."

  Back at the library, when Clarissa asked Atticus how he planned to handle things, he had responded flatly— "She ran into me herself." His tone had been cold, indifferent.

  Clarissa had simply shaken her head. "That won’t work."

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  Lyra was the kind of person who fell for soft sob stories. There was no need to fight when a well-placed pity play would be far more effective.

  So now, as Atticus played his part, Clarissa sighed and added, "He lives next door to me. He’s had a hard life. Lost both his parents, no relatives, has to work part-time just to survive. If June insists on medical expenses, I’ll cover them myself. Don’t take it out on him—he’s just a kid. What do you think?"

  Lyra’s eyes wavered. For a moment, she hesitated—then sighed softly. "I see… You must’ve been scared back there. Don’t worry, we won’t ask you to pay. It was an accident on both sides."

  Clarissa smiled. "That’s a relief. But the medical expenses still need to be covered. Just send me the bill later."

  Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away with Atticus.

  Lyra watched them leave, her thoughts a mess. Clarissa… was different now. She had never cared about things like this before. She had never shown kindness. What the hell changed?

  At the hospital entrance, Clarissa had barely stepped outside when she spotted Dorian approaching. She immediately tried to avoid him, but—

  "Clarissa." He blocked her path. His expression was unreadable, but his voice carried an edge. "What did you do to Lyra?"

  Atticus, standing beside Clarissa, narrowed his eyes as Dorian spoke to her with that tone. A shadow flickered in his gaze, a hint of something dark and unreadable.

  But Clarissa? She looked utterly unfazed. She simply parted her lips and let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Mr. Dorian, is your company really that idle? You’ve got nothing better to do than run around all day, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?"

  Dorian’s expression darkened. Just as he was about to respond, a familiar voice called out—

  "Dorian!"

  Lyra. Dorian immediately stepped past Clarissa, striding toward her without a second thought.

  Clarissa’s lips curled slightly.

  Watching Dorian leave without hesitation, Lyra finally relaxed, a bright and innocent smile blooming on her face. She had been uneasy.

  Clarissa’s recent changes unnerved her. And things at the Lancaster household hadn’t been going well for her lately.

  Even though she was the real daughter, she still couldn’t quite fit into the circle. Worse, her biological parents had been overseas for years, barely keeping in touch—yet every time they called, the housekeeper said they only asked about Clarissa. Rarely about her.

  Lyra lowered her lashes to hide the emotions swirling in her eyes.

  "Lyra, I heard something happened at the library. What was it?" Dorian asked.

  "It wasn’t me—June was the one who got hurt." Lyra hesitated before adding, "Clarissa and I… had a bit of an incident too. But don’t worry, I don’t think she meant to cause trouble for me. It was all just an accident. Everything’s fine now."

  Dorian’s lips pressed into a tight line. Clarissa again. She was still as stubborn and annoying as ever.

  He let out a breath. "As long as you're okay. I’ll have my secretary take you home."

  Lyra shook her head. "No, I want to stay and take care of June."

  Dorian sighed but relented. "Alright. Call me if anything happens."

  ......

  Later—A restaurant.

  Clarissa held her phone to her ear. "Yeah, Mom, I won’t be home for dinner. Alright. Take care of yourself."

  After hanging up, she glanced at Atticus, who remained silent and unmoving across from her.

  "Go ahead and order whatever you want," she told him.

  Atticus simply met her gaze and said, "Just say what you want to say."

  Clarissa accepted the glass of water the waiter handed her, took a sip, then casually ordered a few dishes for herself.

  She turned to Atticus. "Any food you can’t stand?"

  "Ginger, cilantro, celery, carrots, broccoli…"

  Clarissa snorted. "Picky eater, huh?" But this fit perfectly with the villain's character settings in the book. He hated these foods—especially cilantro. In the original story, even just the smell of it was enough to make him gag.

  She ordered a few more dishes, then leaned forward, resting her chin on her slender fingers as she studied Atticus.

  What a weird twist. Even in school, she—the so-called vicious supporting character—had somehow ended up crossing paths with the villain. That wasn’t how the book was supposed to go.