The moment Autumn spoke, Ethan James's face went pale.
Of course he remembered.
Autumn had been allergic to fish since childhood—he was the first one to find out.
Back then, their father had been away on a business trip. The new housekeeper, not knowing about the allergy, had cooked fish for dinner.
Autumn had broken out in hives within minutes, her lips swelling until she could barely breathe.
Ethan had panicked, dialing 911 with trembling hands.
He could still picture it—tiny Autumn, porcelain-faced and fragile, lying alone in the stark white hospital bed. He had stayed by her side for a week, terrified to leave. When their father returned, he'd punished Ethan harshly for his carelessness.
Since then, Ethan had never allowed Autumn near fish again.
So how could he have forgotten?
"Autumn…" he said, guilt thick in his voice.
But Autumn didn't answer. She simply stood, picked up her tray, and walked away—leaving Ethan frozen with remorse.
Anna Hawthorne's nails dug into her palm under the table. She had meant to widen the rift, to push Ethan further against Autumn, but instead, her little trap had backfired—stirring guilt instead of anger.
Beside her, Chaz Donovan's expression barely shifted. He kept eating as if nothing had happened, calm and distant as ever.
Ethan sat slumped, torn between shame and irritation. She used to be so sweet… always clinging to me. When did she start defying me like this?
He thought back, piecing it together.
It started the moment he'd announced Anna would be moving in.
So that was it. Autumn was jealous.
The realization hardened his resolve. His guilt evaporated, replaced by smug certainty. If she weren't so petty, we'd have no reason to favor Anna. Autumn has no one to blame but herself.
Anna watched him carefully. The moment arrogance replaced guilt on his face, she nearly laughed.
Pathetic. He's practically doing half my work for me.
She lowered her lashes and whispered inwardly, System, show me their favorability levels.
"Ethan James: 82. Chaz Donovan: 88," the mechanical voice replied.
Anna's lips curved into a secret smile. It was laughably easy. When she'd first arrived in this world, their affection for her had been below ten. Now it was climbing effortlessly.
Once it reached a hundred, she would take everything from them—all their loyalty, all their resources, all their love.
And when that happens, I'll finally have everything I ever wanted.
Her gaze flicked to Chaz. His eyes, gentle as ever, still held a trace of distance. Yet she couldn't forget how they had softened once—when she had been hurt, when he had shielded her protectively.
Her chest fluttered. That incident can never come to light. Ever.
"Anna? What are you thinking about?" Chaz's warm voice pulled her back.
She smiled sweetly. "Nothing."
"Are you sure you're keeping up in your classes?" Ethan asked, his tone turning brotherly. "Jumping straight into sophomore year is a big leap."
Anna lowered her gaze, feigning shyness. "I'll be fine. If it ever gets too hard, I'll know when to stop."
Not that I need to rely on studying like the rest of you, she thought smugly.
Ethan brightened at her humility. "Good. And if you need help, just ask. Even Mu Bai tutors Autumn every day—you can sit in too."
Anna's eyes lit up, and she thanked him with all the sweetness of a doting little sister. Ethan's chest swelled with pride.
Yes. This is how a girl should behave.
Meanwhile, Autumn returned to her classroom. She picked up the subject application form from her desk. It didn't take long to fill out—just basic details and her chosen track.
At the bottom, however, a parent's signature was required.
Autumn didn't hesitate. She signed it herself, slid it into her bag, and decided to hand it in later. The last thing she needed was her nosy homeroom teacher questioning the forged signature and making her rewrite the form.
Riverdale was a southern city, and St. Claire's had open-air walkways connecting the buildings.
Leaning on the balcony railing, Autumn let the sunlight spill across her shoulders. For the first time in years, she felt alive.
This time, she wouldn't waste her second chance. She would climb higher than anyone. She would win.
The wind tugged at her ponytail as her lips curved upward in a rare, genuine smile.
Not far away, a girl raised her camera, startled by the sight, and captured the moment with a click.
The bell rang. Autumn slipped back into class, distracted through the afternoon lessons. Her mind was already fixed on the future.
As soon as the final bell rang, she packed her bag and left without hesitation.
By the time Ethan came to fetch Anna, Autumn was long gone.
At the gate, Warren, the family's driver, already waited with the black Mercedes. He blinked in surprise when Autumn appeared so soon.
"You're early today, miss."
Autumn slid into the backseat. "Class ended. I didn't feel like waiting."
Warren chuckled, pleased, and pulled out into traffic.
Back at the villa, Autumn pushed open the door just as the housekeeper, Mrs. Zhang, was finishing a phone call.
"Yes, yes, of course! I'll make sure of it!"
Autumn paused, arching a brow.
"I want sweet-and-sour ribs tonight," she called casually.
Mrs. Zhang muttered a distracted "Fine," her enthusiasm clearly reserved for whoever was on the other end of the line.
Autumn smirked faintly. She didn't care about the woman's attitude—as long as she obeyed. If she ever stopped… well, Autumn had no problem replacing her.
She climbed the stairs, dropped her bag on her desk, and her gaze caught on a neatly stacked notebook.
The handwriting was precise, the cover labeled: William Moore.
One of his English study guides.
Autumn flipped through a few pages, skimming his clean notes, then let out a quiet laugh.
She tossed the book aside.