Isabella blinked her wide, teary eyes, struggling to stand still. Her vision was slightly blurry, and her chest ached. She didn’t fully understand what white lotus meant, but she could feel the hatred behind it. The room felt too loud, too bright. She rubbed her hands together, as if trying to erase the trembling from her fingers.
"I didn’t... I didn’t even do anything," she whispered so softly that only those closest heard. Her voice broke at the end, like a tired child who didn’t know why she was being punished.
Alan’s face tightened. "Exactly. She didn’t do anything. You’re all acting like she stole something from you—when all she did was walk into the room."
"She’s faking it," the girl in red snorted, arms folded. "All that innocent blinking and silence—it’s a mask."
Isabella looked down, hurt stabbing her chest. Her throat burned again, not from tears but from that drink. "I didn’t even want to drink... I thought it was just water," she said, voice barely above a whisper.
Alan turned to the others. "Who planned to give her the drink?"
Silence.
Everyone avoided his eyes.
Alexa rolled hers. "It’s not my fault she can’t handle a drop."
Alan gave Alexa a sharp look–cold and piercing. The room grew tense as he stepped forward without a word and gently scooped Isabella into his arms.
The crowd fell silent. Isabella, half-conscious and visibly trembling, rested her head on Alan’s chest. Her hands moved on their own—soft fingers brushing along his jaw, innocent and unaware. Like a child searching for comfort.
Alan’s grip around her tightened protectively. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin—her body was too warm, too weak. It made something sharp twist in his chest.
Alan walked quietly through the hallway, still carrying Isabella gently in his arms. Her breathing had steadied, but her body was warm and too light, as if she’d lost the strength to even hold herself up. He reached her room, pushed the door open with his shoulder, and stepped inside. The moment he laid her down on the bed, she stirred.
Her big brown eyes blinked up at him–wide, glassy, and watery. Like a baby deer lost in the woods.
Her lips moved slowly, and then she whispered in a small, slurred voice, "You... you... you... are out of Bella’s vengeful list!" She gave a tiny nod as if proud of her declaration, though Alan didn’t catch the last part clearly.
He froze, staring at her innocent expression. Her cheeks were a soft pink from the alcohol, her long lashes wet from earlier tears. Her lips were slightly parted, plump and rosy, and her cheeks... round, a little chubby, and so adorably soft-looking that he suddenly felt his heart skip. She looked so pure. So delicate. Like something breakable.
For a second, his gaze lingered too long. If she wasn’t Leo’s wife—if she wasn’t someone he respected deeply, he might’ve made the mistake of looking at her in a way he shouldn’t.
"Goodness..." Alan muttered under his breath, quickly standing up and turning away from her. "What am I thinking..."
Without another glance, he stepped out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him with a quiet sigh.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Isabella slowly sat up in the bed, her hair tousled and cheeks still flushed. Her eyes were glassy and red, and she rubbed them with both hands like a sleepy child. Her bottom lip trembled as she mumbled, voice thick with emotion, "Good is very stupid... bad is very stupid..." A sniff escaped her as tears quietly welled again. She pulled the blanket over her lap and sat there, hugging it tightly as her face scrunched like she was trying to understand what had just happened.
"Everyone’s stupid..." she muttered again, this time lower, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand.
Her eyes wandered the room, scanning through the shadows until she spotted the edge of her laptop bag. With a tiny gasp, she crawled over the bed and reached for it clumsily. "My Bellatrix..." she whispered, dragging the bag to her lap. She opened it with her trembling hands, checking if her laptop was safe.
"Bad is stupid... Alexa is stupid... baides..." she muttered again, her voice slurring as she tried to say "betrayers" but failed. Her eyes blinked heavily, and she hugged the laptop close to her chest like it was her only friend in the world. Another sniffle escaped. "Only bellateee friend love me..." she whispered.
After hugging her laptop tightly, Isabella’s lips quivered again. Her feelings were bursting like a shaken soda bottle. She quickly opened her Hackervese tab and clicked on the message box of the only girl who had ever been nice to her in the world—@SyntaxQueen.
Without thinking twice, she began spamming the chat with messy, emotional lines:
"Heyyy.... I hate bad people!!! *Crying emoji*"
"Queen.... do you like me... or do you think I’m fake too?"
"I saw beach today and then I fell down and got dizzyyyyyyyie *crying emoji*"
"Alexa is a trash file *very angry emoji*"
SyntaxQueen, who was casually sipping her coffee in her dim-lit tech room, nearly choked when her screen filled with one weird message after another. Her eyes narrowed.
"Wait. Is @Bellatrix_019... hacked?"
Before she could type another word, a sudden notification popped up: Incoming Video Call – From: Bellatrix_019.
Her jaw dropped. Bella had never video-called. Not even once. She almost thought it was a trap—maybe a government sting or some rival hacker playing games. But just in case, she tapped to answer.
And there she was.
On the screen appeared the most adorable, teary-eyed girl with long brown hair, flushed cheeks, and wide watery eyes. She looked like she’d just crawled out of a blanket cocoon, still wearing a sundress with one strap slipping down. Her voice came out in a soft hiccup, "Queen... do you hate me too...?"
SyntaxQueen blinked her eyes wide, completely stunned. "Wait—are you out for adoption or something?"
Bella, with her messy hair and pouty lips, leaned closer to the screen like a curious kitten. "Huh? What do you mean?"
"I mean," SyntaxQueen said, still staring, "you look like someone left their sad, beautiful daughter at a train station and forgot to come back."
Isabella’s lips formed a tiny ’o’ shape. "That’s so mean... but also kinda true," she said in a sniffly voice, wiping her eyes with her blanket. "Even Ceo..no Leeeu.. left me..."