Chapter 3

Another time,

I pulled back my covers, ready for bed.

Hundreds of cockroaches scattered, swarming off my bed.

Caleb leaned in the doorway, watching the spectacular scene, a smile playing on his lips.

"Oh dear, how are you going to sleep now?"

Looking at his malicious grin,

I walked out of the room, only to find all the other rooms in the villa were locked.

"The news says there's been a lot of burglaries lately. I didn't feel safe, so I locked them all up."

Caleb followed behind me, carrying a cup of hot milk, explaining slowly.

I went to the living room, planning to spend the night on the sofa.

But Caleb suddenly, like his hands suddenly failed him, dumped the hot milk all over the sofa.

Then he looked at me with an innocent expression.

"Oops, my hand slipped."

Seeing me look at him, Caleb struggled to suppress his laughter.

"Well, looks like you have nowhere to sleep now. But there's an unlocked storage room downstairs, you could go..."

But before he could finish, I walked straight to his room.

I entered, collapsed onto Caleb's bed, and immediately fell asleep.

He stood by the bed, fuming.

"Get up! You're not sleeping in my bed!"

I burrowed deeper into the covers.

"My bad, my foot slipped."

His plan backfired spectacularly. Caleb angrily tugged at me, trying to make me get up.

"If you sleep in my bed, where am I supposed to sleep?"

"Well, then it looks like you'll have to make do with the storage room for the night."

"......"

No matter how much Caleb cursed at me, I remained unmoving.

Eventually, in the middle of the night, Caleb grew tired of yelling. He sat on the edge of the bed and had a breakdown for a bit.

I knew Caleb struggled with sleeping in unfamiliar beds.

He agonized for a long time, then threw back the covers and lay down beside me.

"This is my bed! Why shouldn't I sleep in it!"

He unceremoniously kicked me.

Seeing I still didn't stir, Caleb finally succumbed to sleepiness.

The next morning, I woke up to find Caleb wrapped around me like an octopus.

I have a habit of hogging the covers when I sleep, so he must have gotten cold in the middle of the night.

I stretched and got out of bed, preparing breakfast for Caleb.

Caleb ate with a scowl, clearly having not slept well.

I considerately served him a bowl of porridge.

He gave me a cold glance, then sniffed it.

I leaned back in my chair and smiled. "I'm not like you, using childish tricks."

After confirming there was no strange odor, Caleb took a spoonful of porridge, ignoring me completely.

Once I was sure he'd eaten, I started to serve myself.

The first spoonful I scooped up contained a large cockroach carcass.

Caleb happened to see it.

Caleb's expression gradually froze, then cracked.

He turned and rushed into the bathroom, throwing up violently.

I leaned against the bathroom doorway, kindly explaining.

"There were so many cockroaches last night. A few probably made their way into the kitchen."

"But don't feel too bad. Just think of it as extra protein."

Clutching the toilet, Caleb vomited for a long time, his eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed.

He shot me a furious glare, deliberately bumping my shoulder as he stormed past me.

He then got into the car waiting outside and left for school.

By noon, I suddenly received a call from the school.

The homeroom teacher's voice was anxious on the phone.

She said Caleb had gotten into a fight in class and split a kid's head open.