Even Grant Guzman, hearing the three-million-dollar demand, couldn't help but furrow his brow. Beside him, Avayah whispered, "I think Aspyn didn't mean it. She doesn't have that kind of money, so..."

Grant's chest warmed. His sister was too kind, too gentle. Three million? He could swing it. If it made Avayah happy, it was worth every penny.

He grabbed his checkbook, scrawled out a check, and tossed it at Aspyn's feet like trash.

"There you go!" His eyes brimmed with disdain, daring her to say a word.

Aspyn looked at the check on the floor, then lifted her gaze to meet his, icy and unblinking.

"Grant, don't act like you're doing charity. This money is what I'm owed. You pay for services, right? You pay your employees, don't you? I spent three years on your precious sister. Isn't three million justified?"

"You—" Grant's temper flared. He grabbed her arm on instinct, stretching the blouse off her shoulder.

He froze at the sight of thick scars crisscrossing her skin.

"What the hell is that?"

Aspyn glanced at her shoulder, her eyes darkening. She shook him off and adjusted her blouse. "Can't you see? I got hurt."

"How?" Grant frowned, genuinely puzzled.

Aspyn let out a mirthless laugh. "What do you think prison is like, Grant?"

His name on her lips—not "Mr. Guzman"—made Grant want to lash out, but her mocking stare stole his fire. Guilt crept in, and he looked away, defensive. "I had people keeping an eye on you. They said you were fine."

"Hah!" Aspyn laughed, her eyes going cold. She shoved both Grant and Avayah out of her room and slammed the door.

Grant wanted to storm back, but those scars haunted him. He'd shelled out serious cash to keep her safe in there. How could she've been hurt?

Then he thought about her voice. It wasn't the same—no more bright and clear, but rough and worn. What the hell had happened to her in those years?

The next morning, Aspyn was up early, ready in the living room. She'd actually slept well for once, no need to stay on alert.

Jay came down shortly after, not sparing her a glance. He just went about his routine. It was always like this—Grant would occasionally speak to her, Ezekiel might acknowledge her if he was in a good mood, but Jay stayed aloof, treating her like air, saving all his warmth for Avayah.

Funny thing was, her desperate need to connect with Jay—the family's academic star—had pushed her to excel in school. That's where she'd found her passion for biochemistry. But before she could ever have that conversation with him, she'd been locked away.

Now, she didn't want it. Didn't need it.

They coexisted in silence, a strange sort of peace.

Jay couldn't help glancing at her. She was glued to her phone, no intention of talking. He frowned. She used to hover around him, quiet but always there. Now, her indifference threw him off, though he told himself it suited him—he had no patience for nonsense anyway.

Soon, their mother and Avayah came down, noticing the siblings sitting apart, no interaction. Their mother sighed, resigned. Avayah's lips curled into a barely-there smile.

"Hey, Jay!" Avayah chirped, bouncing over to loop her arm through his. "Did you wait long?"

"Not long. Let's eat first. I'll take you to school after." Jay patted her head.

"Okay!"

Avayah beamed, and only then did she "notice" Aspyn. "You ready, Aspyn? Let's eat together?"

"Already ate," Aspyn said, not looking up.

She'd cooked herself a bowl of pasta earlier, just to avoid sitting with them. School would be a nice escape.

Their mother noticed Aspyn still in yesterday's clothes. "I had some clothes bought in your size last night. Let me know if they fit."

A housekeeper had chosen a T-shirt and jeans in her size. The clothes were impersonal, but at least they were practical—exactly what Aspyn preferred.

"Thanks, ma'am."

She went up to change.

Tall and lean, the outfit looked good on her. Clean, sharp. Her hair was cut short, adding to the neat look.

Their mother was about to compliment her when she saw a long scar on Aspyn's right arm—clearly from something sharp. She gasped.

"Your arm..."

Aspyn glanced at it, chuckling. "It's nothing. Just a nick."

Had she complained, their mother might've felt better. But her calm, matter-of-fact tone only stoked the guilt in her chest.

Their mother wasn't a fool. That wasn't a scratch. And with the scar on Aspyn's wrist too, she couldn't lie to herself anymore.

Aspyn's years in prison had been hell.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Aspyn's steady gaze left her wordless.

After they left, Grant finally came down. Their mother couldn't hold it in.

"Is it true she had a rough time in there? Didn't you make sure she was taken care of?"

Grant didn't have an answer, his face darkening. "I'll look into it."

"Please do. She's your sister. We can't have people thinking we mistreated her," their mother said softly.

In the car, Aspyn took her usual spot in the back, quiet and invisible. Jay chatted with Avayah, occasionally glancing at Aspyn in the mirror. She just stared out the window, never once looking back.

Finally, Jay broke the silence. "I'll take you to admissions later."

"No need, Jay. I've got it," Aspyn said, turning him down.

"Suit yourself!" Jay's face went cold.

He'd offered an olive branch, and she'd thrown it back. Have it her way.

At school, Aspyn found the admin office and handled her enrollment without a hitch. She was dying to switch her major.

What she'd expected to be a hassle turned out suspiciously easy—maybe the Guzmens had pulled strings, or maybe because she'd already been minoring in biochem.

Switching from literature to biochemistry was seamless. A genuine smile finally spread across Aspyn's face.

She had money now. She had her dream major. Everything was falling into place.

That happiness lasted barely an hour. She walked into the biochem office and found Jay and Avayah standing there. Small world.

Jay frowned. "Weren't you in literature? What are you doing here?"

Was she here for him? So she'd been pretending all morning, just to get his attention?

Aspyn had no idea what was going on in Jay Guzman's head. It wasn't exactly shocking to find him here—he'd stayed on as a lecturer after graduation. Deciding not to overthink it, she said coolly, "I switched my major to chemical biology."

As soon as she said it, she caught a flicker of something ugly in Jay's eyes—sarcasm, maybe even disdain.

"That's awesome, sis! We'll be in the same department again. Jay's teaching chemical biology too!" Avayah chimed in brightly, her voice grating in Aspyn's ears. Aspyn's mouth tightened. Sharing a department with both of them was the last thing she wanted.

Faced with a choice between a major she had zero interest in or putting up with the Guzman siblings, she went with the latter—because she needed lab access. That was the only reason.

With that thought, her mood lifted slightly as she walked over to the department coordinator to apply for lab access.

"I'm sorry, but freshmen aren't allowed to use the lab. It's a safety protocol, you understand," the coordinator explained, sounding genuinely kind.

"I'm not exactly a freshman," Aspyn countered. "You can check the records. I took a year of chemical biology as an elective three years ago."

The coordinator typed in her details, and his expression shifted. He looked at her with something almost like sympathy. "I'm sorry, but you still can't use the lab."

"Why not?" Aspyn's forehead creased. She'd taken chemical biology before, and she'd applied for lab use multiple times—she clearly knew how to handle herself in there.

The coordinator sighed. "I apologize, but you're restricted from using it. At least for the next ninety days."

The way he stressed "ninety days" said it all. Aspyn's face went pale.

How could she have forgotten? She was still in her first ninety days on parole. The university's risk-management office would treat her record as a liability, especially in a lab filled with controlled chemicals.

And even after the intensive-supervision period ended, her record could still keep her from getting access.

Falling from grace was fast. Aspyn couldn't hide her disappointment—even Jay noticed, throwing her a second look.

But in a heartbeat, she pulled herself together, thanked the coordinator politely, and walked out.

"Aspyn..." Avayah called after her, but didn't follow.

Jay, remembering the sadness that had flickered across Aspyn's face, felt a twinge of unease. He quickly told Avayah, "Go ahead and explore the department," before going after Aspyn.

With his long strides, he caught up to her easily. "Why didn't you tell the family you took chemical biology three years ago?"

Aspyn glanced at him, her eyes free of sarcasm this time, yet Jay still felt guilty.

Sure, starting a new course was a big deal, and they hadn't known. He vaguely remembered her grades being excellent, but no one had ever bothered to ask what she wanted to study. They only ever cared about Avayah's choices.

Feeling restless and a little guilty, he said coolly, "Chemical biology isn't really a girly subject. You shouldn't have picked it just to be near me."

"No matter what you study, you're still my sister. That's a biological fact," he added.

He didn't actually believe Aspyn liked chemical biology. He figured she'd chosen it because of him. He remembered how she used to try every which way to talk to him, and how he'd mostly ignored her. Once, out of pure irritation, he'd snapped, "What should we talk about? Molecular transformations? Genetic codes? Do you even get any of it?"

After that, Aspyn had left him alone. Remembering it now made him soften a little, and he spoke like he was doing her a favor: "I'll talk to you from now on."

Seeing his self-important attitude, Aspyn couldn't help but laugh. "Really?"

Her reaction irritated him. "Can't you respond properly?"

He'd already extended an olive branch—how ungrateful could she be?

"Oh my! It's 2034, yet dinosaurs like you still exist?" Aspyn shot back. "Dear Mr. Jay Guzman, you've really expanded my worldview."

She hadn't meant to start a fight, but Jay's words kept hitting every sore spot while she was already in a bad mood.

Yes, initially she'd gotten into chemical biology because of Jay. But later... it became something she genuinely loved.

Now, she had zero desire to please anyone.

They weren't worth it.

Jay didn't catch the dinosaur jab, but he knew it wasn't flattering. His mild demeanor vanished, replaced by bitterness. "Aspyn, you'll regret this!"

Regret? Never.

Her biggest regret was coming back to the Guzman family and groveling to placate her so-called relatives.

Aspyn couldn't be bothered with Jay anymore. She walked away, leaving him stewing in his own bitterness.

After standing there for a while, Jay walked off too.

Once they were both gone, a tall figure stepped out from around the corner.

The man was wearing a shirt and trousers despite the scorching summer heat, his shirt buttoned all the way up, neat as a pin. He had a long neck leading to a firm jaw, thin lips, and a distinguished nose. Above that sat deep, expressive eyes, partly hidden behind thin-framed glasses that masked a certain sharpness.

Passing students greeted him with respect. "Professor Stewart!"

Isaias Stewart nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

He hadn't planned on eavesdropping on the siblings' conversation. But when he'd arrived, they were already in the thick of an argument. Interrupting would've been awkward, so he'd unintentionally found himself listening.

He didn't know the details of their relationship, but he had to admit—the girl's comebacks were pretty damn impressive.

A hint of a smile tugged at his lips, but it vanished as quickly as it came when he remembered why he was at the university today.

Would he find "Union" this time?

Three years had passed, and "Union" seemed to have vanished into thin air.

In his search for anything on "Union," he'd even taken a teaching position here. But it had all been for nothing.

Meanwhile, after parting ways with Jay, Aspyn left the university. Since she couldn't use the lab, there was no rush. She wanted to visit her grandmother first.

Three years had passed. Was Grandma okay?

"What? She's not here?"

Aspyn frowned. "Could you check again?"

"No record of the patient exists. Our records show she was discharged three years ago," the nurse confirmed, turning the computer screen toward Aspyn.

The discharge date lined up perfectly with right after Aspyn went to prison.

Had Grandma been cured? Grant had promised to find the best doctor for her surgery.

Aspyn thought for a moment, then hailed a cab to the hospital where her grandmother had been treated.

The Smiths lived in a ramshackle shack on the edge of town—a world away from the Guzmans' lavish life. The air hung thick and sour, rotting vegetables clawing at your throat in the brutal heat. Aspyn Guzman didn't flinch. Fifteen years in this place had numbed her to the stench. Besides, prison smelled worse.

She wasn't even sure the Smiths still lived here. After all, the Guzmans had handed them enough money to live comfortably for a lifetime. Their numbers had changed, and she had no way to reach them. Coming here was a gamble—but maybe one she had to take.

As she stepped into the alley, luck seemed to be on her side when she caught the familiar grumble of her foster father's voice.

"Crying, always crying! You in mourning or what? No wonder I keep losing money—it's your damn bad luck!"

The crash of thrown objects followed by a woman's pleading echoed down the hall. Aspyn froze. The scene was painfully familiar. She'd grown up in this chaos—and later, those insults and blows had been aimed at her. Back then, all she wanted was to run.

Lost in the memory, she nearly jumped when the front door slammed open. Her foster father stumbled out, reeking of alcohol, spitting on the ground.

"Stupid... bringing me bad luck..." His muttering died the second he spotted her. He rubbed his eyes, blinking in disbelief. When he realized it was really her, a greedy glint flickered in his bleary eyes.

"Aspyn?"

"Daughter! You came to see your old man?"

"Come in, come in."

He reached out to grab her, but Aspyn sidestepped him easily.

His face soured, anger flashing across his features—but he swallowed it, forcing a smile. "Come on in, your mother's inside!"

"Mary! Mary! Our daughter's back—get out here!"

As if on cue, a woman with a bruised face appeared in the doorway. It was Mary, Aspyn's foster mother.

"Aspyn..." Mary breathed, automatically reaching for Aspyn's hand. Aspyn pulled away.

Mary's face flickered with hurt. Aspyn's foster father shoved her roughly. "You idiot, Aspyn's a proper Guzman lady now. Think you can just touch her?"

"But our Aspyn's got a good heart. She remembered to come see us—unlike that ungrateful wretch who never showed her face once."

He kept flattering Aspyn while cursing Avayah.

"Blood doesn't mean a thing compared to raising someone, right, daughter?"

Aspyn understood the hint. "Mr. Smith, I don't have any money."

His face dropped instantly. All that sycophantic warmth vanished. His voice shot up. "You're a Guzman lady now, and you're telling me you're broke?"

"You ungrateful little—I raised you for fifteen years! Even a dog would've learned some loyalty by now..."

He started kicking at stuff lying around, and Mary shrank back, silent.

"I don't care. You better pay up today," he threatened, grabbing Aspyn by the collar. "If you don't, I'll throw you out on the street naked. Let's see how the Guzmans handle that."

Aspyn stared at him, ice-cold. "Do it. They wouldn't give a damn. They've cut ties with me—didn't you hear?"

He stopped mid-rant, a bitter twist crossing his face. He knew the Guzmans had disowned her. His dream of an easy payday crumbled. He lifted his hand to strike her—a gesture she knew all too well.

"You worthless—"

His hand froze mid-swing, caught in Aspyn's iron grip. A cold smile curled her lips. "Try me."

Caught off guard by the steel in her eyes, he suddenly realized his 'daughter' was nearly as tall as him now. Not the scrawny kid he could push around anymore.

"Mr. Smith, do you think I spent three years in prison for nothing?"

Aspyn pushed up her sleeve, revealing scars from her time inside. Her foster father swallowed hard, suddenly remembering why she'd been locked up in the first place.

Fear crept into his eyes, but he kept his mouth shut. He wrenched free from her grip, spat to the side, and muttered, "Damn it!"

Then he brushed past her, stumbling away, all bravado gone.

Mary finally stepped forward, watching Aspyn with a mix of wariness and pleading. "Aspyn, are you okay? Let me see."

She reached for Aspyn's hand—and again, Aspyn pulled away. Mary's face wavered between hurt and reproach, but Aspyn felt nothing.

"Where's Grandma?"

"In the back," Mary murmured.

Ignoring her, Aspyn headed toward the small room at the back of the shack.

The door swung open, and a stench hit her so hard that even Aspyn—toughened by years of hardship—hesitated.

On the bed lay her grandmother, nothing but skin and bones. Tears welled in Aspyn's eyes.

"Grandma."

She stepped inside.

The room was tiny, with no windows, no fan—air conditioning wasn't even a thought. And her grandmother lay there, in that godforsaken place.

Seeing Aspyn, the old woman reached out a shaky hand.

"Aspyn... Aspyn!"

"Grandma!" Aspyn rushed to take her hand, a knife twisting in her chest.

There was no flesh left on those fingers.

"Aspyn, you're okay..." Grandma tried to touch Aspyn's face, but pulled back, self-conscious of her dirty hands.

"Grandma, let me see your leg."

She had a rare condition—one that needed surgery to heal properly. Aspyn had begged Grant to arrange it, and he'd agreed—on one condition: she take the fall for Avayah.

Aspyn moved to uncover Grandma's leg, but a frail grip stopped her. "Nothing to see. I'm fine."

"Just old age making me lazy."

"Aspyn, tell me—were they mean to you in there?"

That warmth hit Aspyn square in the chest.

Of everyone since she'd been released, Grandma was the only one who'd asked if she'd been mistreated.

Aspyn wanted to tell her everything—the hardships, the torment. But she forced a smile instead. "No! It wasn't as bad as people say. No one bullied me."

"Really?" Grandma didn't quite believe her.

"Really!" Aspyn smiled. "You know me—I've always been a good girl. The guards looked out for me."

Aspyn's expression was so convincing that Grandma bought it, relaxing. "That's good to hear."

"Grandma, come with me," Aspyn whispered. "I have money now. I can take care of you."

"Just three more months, and I'll be completely free. Will you come live with me then?"

To Aspyn, Grandma was her only real family.

Grandma didn't answer, just patted Aspyn's shoulder with a satisfied smile. "As long as you're doing well, that's all I need."

"I've always worried about you. Now I can finally rest easy."

There was something off about Grandma's voice. Her touch felt feverish, and Aspyn's expression changed. "Grandma?"

"Nothing... just tired... wanna rest..." Grandma slurred, struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Okay, let's rest."

Aspyn moved to help her lie down—then froze. Something was wrong. She quickly pulled back the blanket covering Grandma's legs.