She closed the bathroom door with a soft click, a final barrier between her and the outside world. The lock turned with a muted thud, sealing her in a space that felt increasingly like a sanctuary and a prison all at once. Yuna sat in the bathtub, her fingers trembling as she retrieved the button phone she had hidden.

"Did I receive a message from my family, Blake?" She spoke her tone barely above a whisper and heavy with an undercurrent of sorrow.

Yuna carefully gave Blake the mobile number she used to contact her family, a crucial detail for ensuring their safety. Despite the silence from their end—no calls, no messages since the day she had left their home three years ago—she maintained a ritual that had become both a lifeline and a solace.

Every day, without fail, Yuna crafted a message detailing her daily experiences. It was a carefully crafted narrative, a way to reassure them that she was safe and living well.

Her mother’s decision had been difficult for her. However, her understanding of their intentions allowed her to temper her sadness with empathy.

"I forwarded their message to you." You didn’t see?” Blake replied, his voice tinged with a rare hint of excitement.

For a moment, Yuna felt a rush of conflicting emotions. The very idea that her family had reached out, despite the silence for years, was both thrilling and overwhelming. Her hands trembled slightly as she clutched the phone tighter.

“How are the two cats you adopted, Sabel and Raven?”

As she read the message, Yuna felt relief and happiness. The emotional weight she had carried seemed to lighten, replaced by a gentle warmth that spread through her chest.

Yuna’s fingers flew over the phone’s buttons, her vision blurred by tears that had welled up.

"FYI: I didn't adopt them. THEY TRICKED ME!"

Quickly, she typed another message, her thoughts rushing faster than her fingers could keep up.

"I did not adopt these two obnoxious animals. They were cats, but living with them made me feel like I was in a lion's den. They're as cunning as a fox."

Her fingers paused on a sent button, unsure whether she'd transmit the next message she typed.

"Sabel is sick very severely. I don't know whether I should feel sorry for him or hope he suffers more."

Sent!

Sabel and Raven were metaphorical names Yuna created to cover for Victor and Zack. The stories she regularly sent to her family were framed around these 'two cats' to conceal the true identities and nature of her situation.

Yuna lay in the unwatered bathtub, the cool porcelain pressing against her back as she clutched her mobile phone tightly.

Then, out of the haze of her thoughts, a small, bright icon on her screen caught her eye—the envelope symbol indicating a new message. Instantly, her heart leaped into her throat.

Yuna’s fingers groped with the phone as she hastily called Blake. She wanted to confirm if the message was a comforting gesture from Blake rather than a genuine reply from her family.

The content of the message:

"Do you think people's behavior towards animals always made sense to them?

PS: "You can curse and despise people or animals to your heart's content if they are hateful. And allow your heart to determine whether or not to continue with such behavior. If it makes you suffer rather than relieved, it's time to consider embracing them for what they are."

"Please, take care."

Blake, is this message really from my family?”

"Have you read the message's contents?" Do you think I'd suggest accepting them?"

Blake’s reply came through, dripping with a scornful edge that was unmistakable hatred.

“Thank you, Blake. Could you please type and send a message? ‘I miss you.’”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

The realization that the messages she had painstakingly sent every day for the past three years were not in vain hit her with an overwhelming sense of warmth.

"Is Zack still unconscious?"

“Victor said he would wake up soon, but the doctor mentioned that Zack is still in critical condition. They can’t determine the poison because Victor wouldn’t allow the tests to be done.”

“Honestly, Blake, all I can think about is what will happen if he dies.” I feel like I should have done more, and this guilt is eating me alive. If I had been able to protect him better or find a way to help sooner...”

"I don't care about his life or family issues, but... Hey! He is the wicked guy here, and he doesn't deserve your sympathy. F**k! *****"

Blake’s reply came through with a surge of anger and frustration. He cursed them, using all of his swearing knowledge.

"I won't state everything he had done wrong, but it is clever of you to take advantage of the situation. Your survival instincts save you from the worst. Because always be reminded that you can only rely on yourself there."

"I don't know, Blake."

Yuna sighed.

"Is it true that you met the president?"

"Funny, right?"

"Then so, it must be his minions digging some information."

There was a heavy silence on the line. Yuna didn't immediately respond, but the silence spoke volumes. On the other end of the phone, it was clear that she was devastated.

She knew that the president possessed much authority to uncover details about her.

"Don't worry. Rest assured that no one will know your real name or identity. You didn't ask me, but I do the job pretty well. "Just listen carefully to the information they have dug up from you."

"They won't learn anything about my family." Please make a promise to me!"

"I don't believe in God but can swear to him."

Blake's detailed story helped to ease Yuna's emotions. But she was still concerned about how a simple story could make it sound genuine when it was entirely fabricated. Would the state president be a fool?

"You can trust me, right?"

Blake’s thoughts were conflicted. He was very aware of Yuna’s need for explanation to feel secure, but he also carried a burden of his own, an unsettling secret he had been desperate to forget.

"Certainly, Blake. But you know how much it affects me."

Her quavering response made his heart sink, and he couldn't resist the urge to provide more specific information.

“Unless your real family shows up and claims you’re related to them, they’ll never know your true identity. Because...”

Blake’s voice trailed off, and a heavy silence filled the gap.

"The Yuna Collins story is true." You are using my sister's identity. Half-sister, to be precise. She died months before we met for the first time."

Yuna's eyes grew startled at what she had learned. The unsettling truth hit her like a tidal wave, leaving her momentarily stunned and disoriented.

"It's all right for now, Blake. Let me listen to your agony with tea and sympathy when the moment is right when I can hug you."

Yuna could see right through Blake's emotions. He sought to conceal a brutal reality with fantasy, though he knew that wishing to be a butterfly is a wish that will never come true, much like a worm that understands how it differs from a caterpillar.

Since their mother worked as an entertainer and brought several men home, Blake knew nothing about their father. So, when Yuna, his sister, was five years old and he was seven, they were separated because the organization that sponsored orphans advocated dispersing siblings so that it would be simpler to separate them if someone wanted to adopt them.

He gave his sister precise instructions to tell people she didn't have a sibling before he ran away. Fortunately, nobody in their neighborhood cared about their mother or them, so they weren't aware of it either.

Blake thought that if they'd rescue his sister first and he showed up and sought help later, pretending Yuna and him weren't related, there was still a chance for them to be together. However, the community refused to accept him, claiming he could already survive alone.

When the fire broke out at the orphanage, he rescued his sister and took her to the old mountain villager who lived on the farm without a kid. But, once again, they only take his sister.

When the couple died, his sister traveled to the city where she knew her brother worked to ask for assistance in rescuing the farm of the old couple, and that was when the horrific occurrence occurred.

When Blake first met Yuna, he was on the brink of death. Yuna was the first person to offer him help, and she gave him the chance to live an honorable life.

Blake's life was no better than that of a rat. People used to chase him away because they feared he would sully their establishment, or out of a desire to feel less bad about not giving him a hand when they saw him in their community. Likewise, when he joined the syndicate, the public chased him away because they were worried he would do something horrible.

Sensing the tension in the air, Yuna broke the silence with a gentle question. “How are your studies, Blake?” she asked, shifting the conversation. Her tone was soft, carrying an unspoken understanding. She wanted to let him know that he didn’t have to reveal anything he wasn’t ready to share, just as she had kept her secrets hidden from everyone.

"I'll be in senior high by next year. Can you believe that?"

Blake was exalted for bragging to Yuna that he would soon graduate from high school.

“Gosh. You’re still ugly, though.”

Yuna snorted, chuckling softly. Knowing how Blake often considered himself gorgeous and harbored ambitions of becoming an actor, Yuna would frequently tease him by calling him ugly. Despite this, she was well aware of his stunning attractive looks.

"You are an oxygen thief, though."

In response, Blake kidded.

Blake secured a small apartment, enrolled in school, and began a new, decent life after Yuna gave him all the cash Roy had handed her when she won the Liar's Dice game. The memory of Yuna's response to his question about why she gave him the entire sum of money—when she needed it for herself and her family—remains vivid in his mind. "We can be millionaires if my father gambles."