V. The Heir

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Nine years ago, John and Terry at age seven

"You're here again."

Terry looked up from the book she was reading. John entered the room, a smirk on his face. She scowled.

"Good afternoon," she mumbled, trying to muster some politeness in her tone. He was, after all, the son of her parents' important business associate. Her mother had punished her severely for kicking him before. She didn't want to be punished again. "Is there anything I can do for you, John?"

John's smirk widened. "You look like you just swallowed a frog," he commented.

"I actually prefer to eat frogs than to be in your company but we can't have everything we want, can we?" she said with a saccharine smile on her lips.

"Oh, but I can have whatever I want." John sat next to her, so close that she had to pull her skirt free from under his legs. "I only have to say a word."

Terry looked away. "Lucky you," she muttered softly.

She picked up her book again and started reading. She was aware the little brat was staring at her but she didn't care. If she had to suffer his company, then he'd have to suffer her silence too.

John broke it, however, by taking her book. "Isn't this a high school textbook?" he asked in astonishment. "Aren't you a little young to be reading it? Shouldn't you be reading fairy tales instead?"

Snatching it back, Terry scooted backwards on the sofa and gave him another well-placed glare.

"My mother doesn't like me reading fairy tales," she answered. "She says they will rot my brain."

John laughed. "Rot your brain? That's insane." He stopped laughing and studied her for a moment. "Come with me," he finally said, taking her hand.

Surprised by his sudden familiarity, Terry let herself be pulled by John outside the room and to the hall. After what seemed like a long walk around his mansion, meandering different halls, turning corridors and climbing stairs, they finally reached their destination.

With a grin, John nodded at the maid following them. The maid opened the door and gestured them in. Terry gasped in delight. Shelves and shelves of books towered inside the massive room. John went to one shelf and picked up a book. Beckoning to her, he made her sit on a velvet sofa and gave it to her. It was the Grimm's Fairy Tales.

"My mother won't like me reading this," she muttered more to herself than to him. "She really won't like this."

"She isn't here, is she?" Terry glanced at him. He was sitting on an armchair beside her, an elbow to the arm, fist to the side of his face, observing her. "You can read anything you want here."

"Why?" she blurted out. Suspicious, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you trying to get me into trouble? I already apologize for kicking you but if you haven't insulted me by calling me names and comparing me to Sadako then I wouldn't have done it."

"We're friends, aren't we?"

Terry went mum, bewildered by his reply. Or was it because of the smile that graced his features, genuine and kind, devoid of his usual arrogance?

"I like you, Terry. And I want to be your friend."

**********

The cafeteria was filled with nervous chatter and whispers when I walked in. Heading to the table where Hannah was, I noted the tense atmosphere, the nervous looks and pale faces. I pursed my lips and continued to walk to the table where Hannah was, ramrod straight, one foot in front of the other, just like I learned in etiquette class. I was still shaken by the encounter with John earlier but I was damned if I'd let it show.

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