Inessa

7

Cold-hearted.

That’s what everyone calls him.

And yet, who would have thought that he—of all people—would offer me a job? An actual job, which I desperately needed. Unbelievable, right? I mean, look at him. With that grumpy face, he looks like a dead potato. Dead potato? Seriously, Inessa?

7:30 AM.

I shook my head at my own thoughts. Stop, Inessa. If you keep talking to yourself, you're definitely going to be late. But in all seriousness, I was grateful.

"You’ve got this, Inessa. You will survive." I whispered under my breath, trying to reassure myself.

Three months. I had survived on my own for three months. Not perfectly, not gracefully, but I managed. Yet, how long could I keep this up? The struggle to make ends meet was constant. The only thing I could do right now was focus on the job at hand. The future... I would figure that out later.

---

"Good morning, Mr. Rossi." I greeted, standing before his imposing desk.

"Good morning, Miss Inessa." He nodded, his voice measured and professional. "This is a one-year contract. Everything is detailed within, so please review it before signing. If there’s anything that seems inconvenient, we can discuss it."

I took the file he placed on the table. Today, he was dressed more casually than usual—an open-collared shirt instead of his usual stiff suits. It made him seem... different. Less intimidating.

I carefully read through every clause. Experience had taught me not to trust anyone easily. I had once, and I learned my lesson in the worst way possible. When I was sure everything seemed fair, I signed.

"Here." I slid the document back to him. He flipped through it, then added his signature with swift strokes. "I hope everything is clear. You can start tomorrow. If you have any questions, you can call me. Here’s my number." He handed me a card with his personal contact information.

---

A job. A real, stable job.

Everything was happening so fast that I barely had time to process it. I had been struggling, barely surviving, and now, suddenly, I had a new opportunity.

I made a quick dinner—instant noodles and a glass of water, my usual meal these days. Once finished, I lay down on my small bed, staring at the ceiling.

And then, my thoughts drifted back.

To him.

To my past.

Everything had started so beautifully.

---

I remember the first day I met Noah.

After Mom’s death, Dad transferred us to a different school. My first day of high school arrived, but I felt nothing. No excitement, no nervous anticipation—only numbness.

I introduced myself mechanically to the class. My voice was even, my face void of expression. Every seat was taken except for one, leaving me no choice but to sit there.