“Shhh, it’s okay,” Ezra whispered with a comforting voice as he bent down to rest his forehead against Blair’s. He gently cupped her face, his gaze lingering on her features as he searched for a hint of recognition.

“Focus on me, Blair. It’s Ezra, your big brother.” He continued, hoping his voice would soothe her, a reminder that she was not alone.

“Breathe with me, okay? We’re in this together.” He inhaled slowly and deeply, encouraging her to follow his lead.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to synchronize with the gentle rise and fall of his chest, his steady presence anchoring her. His warm and reassuring palms cupped her face as he continued to breathe slowly, patiently waiting for her breaths to stabilize.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered softly, his thumbs gently pressing her cheeks. “Just keep going, just like that.”

Gradually, she loosened up; her breaths became deeper and steadier. She opened her eyes and met the gaze of Ezra’s handsome face, his striking blue eyes locking onto hers. A gentle smile spread across his face as relief softened his intense features. His chiseled jaw relaxed as he let out a quiet sigh.

“Good girl,” he said when he finally felt her warm breath.

Ezra bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’m proud of you.” His strong, defined cheekbones caught the light, highlighting the quiet relief that transformed his expression from intense worry to calm contentment.

“Why are you here?” she whispered. Her frail face revealed embarrassment and vulnerability. “You’re the last person I wanted to see me like this.” She kept her head down to avoid his gaze.

“The last person you wanted to see, huh?” he asked softly, his tone laced with playful wit. “Funny, I recall someone once saying I’m the only one in the world for her.”

She stepped back and pushed him away with a trembling hand. “I mean it, Ezra. I don’t want you to see me like this again.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she shook her head firmly.

“Blair…” He didn’t resist, but he also didn’t remove his hand from her shoulder. His gaze lingered on her beautiful, pale face, as if attempting to break through the wall she tried to put up.

“I’m not your responsibility anymore.” She pressed her lips together, feeling the familiar ache in her heart that came whenever he looked at her that way—like he would bear any burden just to lighten hers.

“Blair,” he called her name softly, his tone filled with understanding, as though he could see right through her attempts to keep him at arm’s length and hide behind her own strength. “I’ve respected your choice to live life on your own terms. See? I didn’t even take down that anonymous post on the campus forum, though I could have erased it in an instant and put a stop to every lie they’re spreading about you.” He sighed, a gentle yet firm expression on his face. “But you can’t expect me to close my eyes in a situation like this.”

The tension in her body finally dissipated, yet she still clung to the wall she had constructed for herself. As she looked up at him, she noticed the way his brows furrowed and the silent pain reflected in his warm, steady eyes. He had always been the one who knew precisely how to pull her back from the brink. In that moment, a decade's worth of memories flooded her mind.

With a gentle, reassuring voice, he knelt beside her bed, guiding her breathing to help her stay grounded. He would often remain sleepless whenever her anxieties and trauma overwhelmed her. His presence had always been her sanctuary—a solid, unbreakable rock to which she could cling.

As she gazed into his eyes, the weight of those memories enveloped her, leaving her both comforted and humbled. How had she forgotten this aspect of him? How had she allowed herself to drift so far from this sense of gratitude, permitting her selfish desires to obscure what he had always meant to her?

“Thank you, brother.” A soft flush of embarrassment crept over her cheeks as she reflected on her stubborn insistence over the years—pushing him to be something more, hoping he would see her as a lover, and even agreeing to their parents’ wishes for marriage, despite knowing deep down that he was opposed to the idea. “I’m sorry.”

“Enough, Blair Wilson. I don’t want to hear those words...”

“No!” she interrupted, her amber eyes blazing with fierce conviction.

“Because it’s my karma,” she whispered, her gaze locked on his, unable to look away even as shame flooded her features. Her cheeks flushed, and her lips pressed tightly together, but the words kept flowing—she needed him to understand the truth, even if it exposed the worst parts of her. “So don’t feel sorry for me,” she continued, her voice barely a murmur. “You know better than anyone how resentful, entitled, and selfish I was.”

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

She took a shaky breath, glancing away for a before her eyes returned to his, her face shadowed with guilt. “I didn’t tell you before, but I need to now,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I used to grit my teeth in frustration and loathed your every rejection, convincing myself that you and your family owed me everything. If it hadn’t been for me, my grandfather would never have agreed to help the Taylors with their business.”

The words were bitter with honesty that she couldn’t take back. “I know it’s vile,” she whispered, her voice low and tinged with regret. Her face softened, and a faint, ashamed smile flickered on her lips as she continued, “But my pride blinded me, convinced that I had every right to claim you as mine.”

She hesitated, her gaze falling to the ground before she looked up again, her amber eyes clouded with embarrassment. “Worst of all,” she admitted, her voice faltering, “I thought so highly of myself.” She paused, then made a small, almost apologetic gesture with her hand, raising it as if she were holding herself on an invisible pedestal. “Up here,” she murmured, letting her hand hover above her head before slowly lowering it. “And everyone else…” Her hand dropped, fingers splaying open in a gesture that drifted downward, “below.”

“Don’t worry, brother.” Blair beamed her signature bright smile as she delivered her last words to him. “I don’t view what happened to me as a downfall. Honestly, I am grateful for the opportunity to change my past actions and embrace the new me. Perhaps this is my redemption—a chance to live with humility and a clear understanding of who I want to become.”

His gaze lingered on her, a blend of sorrow and a hint of acceptance etched across his handsome features.

“What do you want to become, Blair?” His voice was low and measured, as if he were carefully choosing each word. “What’s your plan now that you’re on your own?”

He paused, searching for a hint from her face. “Why didn’t you address the rumors about having a secret child? Why did you hardly stand up to your bullies?”

His questions lingered in the air, a quiet weight pressing down on her. She forced a soft, almost carefree laugh, her voice tinged with fragile optimism.

“I’m still Blair Wilson,” she replied, a spark of her old fire flickering within her. “Just wait and see. Whatever happens… I’ll survive. That’s my only plan now—to survive.”

Ezra watched her in quiet disbelief, hardly recognizing the woman standing before him. Blair Wilson had once epitomized ambition—the girl who pursued every achievement with unwavering pride, determined to be the brightest and the best. She had craved attention, thrived on admiration, and wore her confidence like a crown. But now, here she was, expressing that all she wanted was to survive. She sought only to move forward and simply exist in her life without expecting anything in return.

Blair sighed, sensing the unspoken questions in his eyes. “You’re wondering why I hardly resist those who seek to trample me, aren’t you?” She managed a faint, knowing smile. “Because if I tried, I would only provoke them further, and I don’t possess the means to truly fight back. So perhaps it’s easier to simply appease their spite. All I need to do is live—one day at a time. I don’t need to win or prove anything anymore.”

She paused, her gaze momentarily drifting away, her eyes betraying a flicker of uncertainty. “You may call me a coward, or whatever else you want,” she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her eyes. “But this... this is how I’ve learned to deal with everything I’ve lost, with nothing left of what I once had.”

Ezra felt a pang of something indescribable as he gazed at her. “You’ve changed,” he murmured, almost as if he were addressing a stranger.

Blair’s eyes softened, and a faint smile graced her lips. “No, I haven’t changed,” she replied quietly. “I’m the same, just… reshaped by my new reality.”

His face tightened, a fleeting expression of something indefinable crossing his features. It was nearly irritation, but beneath it lay a swirl of complex emotions that he himself could barely comprehend. “Don’t call me brother, ever again.” He turned his back to her, concealing the turmoil etched on his face.

The words left Blair momentarily stunned. She watched him walk away, each step deliberate and his posture tense. A dull ache tightened in her chest as she replayed his parting words, struggling to grasp their meaning. Slowly, however, a realization settled over her—heavy yet oddly freeing. Perhaps he had finally chosen to listen to her and sever all his connections with her.

“It is actually better this way, don’t you think, sir?” Her voice rang out, unwavering and brave, echoing through the quiet, abandoned restroom at the back of the business administration building. The walls seemed to close in, amplifying her words in the heavy silence. There was an eerie quality to her tone, as if the confidence she had once lost had found a dark refuge.

In an eerie surrounding, Blair stood her ground, her gaze unwavering. There was no trace of hesitation, nor a flicker of fear in her eyes. “I knew you were there,” she said, her voice steady, “but I don’t understand why you’re still following me.” She fixed her gaze on the stall where the man, cloaked in a hoodie and mask, had hid himself when Ezra arrived.

Blair’s laughter echoed eerily in the stillness, a mocking, almost manic sound that reverberated off the walls, unsettling in its abruptness. Her eyes gleamed with a strange mix of defiance and something darker. “Are you frustrated that you can no longer use me to gather intel about Wilson and Taylor—” she paused, her voice a quiet rasp that seemed to linger in the air, thick with tension.

Blair took a slow, deliberate step forward and placed her palms against the door. The cool surface pressed back, as if resisting the weight of the moment. The silence in the room deepened, thick and suffocating, stretching on as she stood there.

“…Spencer Brooks?”