Chapter 2

After getting off the train, heavy rain poured down.

My parents were busy cooking and tidying up the house, so they couldn’t pick me up. I hailed a cab, gave the address, and settled in.

The driver kept eyeing me in the rearview mirror, trying to make small talk.

When you’re out in the world, your identity is whatever you decide it is.

The driver asked, “What kind of work do you do, miss?”

“I do people.”

“How much do you usually make?”

“Depends on you.”

The driver paused. “What’s that got to do with me?”

“Exactly. What does my paycheck have to do with you?”

Choked for words, the driver glared at me speechlessly in the rearview mirror and drove on in silence.

Half an hour passed. The rain grew heavier, yet we were nowhere near my neighborhood.

I tapped on my phone, saying nonchalantly, “Sir, could you stop taking the scenic route?”

The driver startled, glancing back in panic, asking carefully:

“Miss, you’re a local?”

I smiled faintly and nodded, thinking to myself:

I am a genius. Just a random bluff and I caught him red-handed.

The driver caught my reflection in the mirror, his face flashing between red and pale. He slammed on the gas and got me home in ten minutes flat.

Right after stepping out, I realized my phone seemed to be missing.

Without hesitation, I sprinted after the cab like an unhinged track star, wildly chasing down the moving car.

The driver stopped and rolled down the window, asking what was wrong. Just as I was about to shout my question, I felt my coat pocket—my phone was right there.

The smile on my face froze, and the words in my throat took a sudden ninety-degree turn:

“It’s raining pretty hard. Drive safe, sir!”

The driver gave me an extremely bizarre look, muttered a quick thanks, and rolled up his window instantly before speeding away.

It was as if he were terrified of catching whatever madness I had.

Watching his taillights vanish into the storm, I indulged my inner soap opera: Darling! Don’t leave me! How am I supposed to survive without you?!

In the distance, the cab suddenly swerved left and right as if the steering wheel had broken, accelerating even faster into the night.

Humming a little tune, I headed home.

Before going upstairs, I stopped by the pet transport counter to pick up my two cats.

Over the past few years, our family’s financial situation had improved, which stirred up plenty of envy among our relatives. They often threw passive-aggressive shade our way, but everyone still kept up appearances.

By the time I reached the apartment, most of the relatives were already gathered.

My parents welcomed me warmly at the door. I handed the cat carriers to my mom, asking her to place them in my bedroom first.

When I finished taking off my shoes and walked in, my mom was cornered by a circle of relatives.

My oldest aunt, holding her little granddaughter, pointed at the cats with a smirk:

“Look, sweetie, two filthy little beasts.”

Hearing that, my parents’ faces instantly darkened.

My face, however, remained plastered with a sweet, radiant smile. I stepped right in front of my oldest aunt and took back the carriers.

I sneered in my head: To a beast, everything looks like a beast.

Still humming, I ignored their weird looks and turned toward the hallway.

My aunt’s granddaughter, my little niece, blocked my path, pointing at the carriers:

“Cute! So cute!”