’So, she can get nervous over me too. This feeling of being cared for by her is wonderful.’

Leona Grant gazed at her, his vision blurring. A white light seemed to flash in his mind, and his eyes glazed over with a faint, distant look...

He didn’t know when he had fallen in love with Annabelle Linton.

All he knew was that for as long as he could remember, she had been a part of his life—a quiet, unassuming presence always trailing behind him.

His most vivid memory was from elementary school. He was two grades ahead of Annabelle Linton.

He was in third grade, and Annabelle Linton was in first grade.

A red rash had broken out all over his body. It was a frightening, blood-red color and covered his face, hands, and feet.

It was a flu virus, something akin to avian flu. The symptoms may have been different, but the potential harm and severity were the same.

Because of the flu, he was forced to stay home from school, placed in total quarantine.

He’d never been one for making friends, but it was a terrible feeling to be sick with no one to visit. When the classmates who usually tagged along with him heard he had the flu, not a single one dared to come see him, terrified of getting infected.

Annabelle Linton was the first, and only, person to come see him.

It was a week after he’d been stuck in bed, bored out of his mind, when one day, his grandfather brought her to see him.

He could still picture Annabelle Linton then: her eyes were red-rimmed as she furiously wiped away tears, and she was wearing her little white school uniform, black leather shoes, and a backpack when she came to see him.

Everyone else avoided him, unwilling to play with someone who looked so awful. But she came.

That day, her face was bruised, and her clothes and hair were dirty and messy. Grandfather explained it was because she’d heard someone say he was going to die. Panicked, she had gotten into a fight and then run crying to Grandfather, which was why he’d brought her to him.

Annabelle Linton came up to his bedside and dumped the contents of her schoolbag out—all her most treasured possessions. There were dolls, candy, little snacks, a music box that played a song, and a collector’s edition Chibi Maruko-chan pin.

Annabelle Linton had really loved Chibi Maruko-chan as a child.

At the time, he had been utterly disdainful and speechless. How could she have the nerve to give him her used things? Did she take him, Young Master Grant, for a garbage collector?

It was only later, when she had taken it all back, that he understood just how selfless her love for him truly was.

She had so little, yet she had unhesitatingly given him everything she had.

Ever since they were little, she had been willing to give him her most precious things. It was just that he had never cherished them...

She came to his bedside, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe, a complete mess of tears and snot. "Leona, I’ll give all of this to you," she cried, heartbroken. "Just don’t die. Don’t leave me like my mom did."

His expression darkened, and he was about to ask her if she was out of her mind for jinxing him like that. But seeing her in such a state, crying her eyes out, his anger somehow vanished in an instant.

He looked at her and said awkwardly, "Who said I was going to die?"

At that, she burst into tears all over again, wailing that he looked so awful right now, it really seemed like he was about to die, because she’d never seen him look so bad before.

He was so angry he was speechless. What kid likes being called ugly?

Thinking back on it now, that was probably why she was always getting hurt and being falsely accused back then.

She was simple and kindhearted, completely without a scheming bone in her body.

While others knew to say what people wanted to hear, she only ever told the truth. While others learned to flatter and fawn, her world was simple: if she liked you, she would be your friend; if she didn’t, she wouldn’t associate with you.

She was just so honest—honest to a fault, really—which was why she’d been bullied by Vivian Yates for so long.