Saved by the Rival

My stepsister is a master manipulator. A textbook pick-me girl.

She stole my room. She stole my parents' love.

Now, she has her sights set on my only anchorCarson.

In the grayest days of my life, Carson was my salvation.

But when Sierra pulled her old tricks, pretending to stumble into his arms in the sunlight to apologize

The boy who promised to protect me forever turned to his bros and said, "She's not that bad. Actually, she's kind of cute."

That was the moment I realized something.

Being childhood best friends meant nothing. He was just another trophy she could snatch away whenever she wanted.

Chapter 1

Laughter echoed from the classroom.

I stood at the back door. My eyelids felt heavy. I blinked, a slow, heavy movement. A single tear escaped. Gravity pulled it down until it hit the linoleum floor.

"Sierra isn't as bad as Eden makes her out to be."

Carson's voice drifted out. Lazy. Relaxed. A soft click of his tongue.

"She's actually kind of cute."

My grip on my notebook tightened. My knuckles turned white, the spiral binding digging into my skin.

His friends immediately started jeering. "You've known her for what? A day? And you already know her that well?"

"Shut up." Carson laughed, the sound of a shoe kicking a shin echoing. "Yesterday. She accidentally bumped into me. Spilled her milk tea all over my jersey. She added me this morning. Said she wanted to Venmo me for the dry cleaning."

The laughter grew louder.

"Oh, please. She probably just thinks you're hot. Bet she wouldn't pay if it was anyone else."

"Wait, so you actually added her?"

"Hahaha! Doesn't our school's Golden Boy have a strict 'no random girls' rule?"

Yesterday in the hallway, Sierra flashed that sugary smile. "Any friend of my sister is a friend of mine. It's so nice to meet you. I'm Sierra."

Carson had side-stepped her outstretched hand. He let her smile rot on her face. "I'm just Eden's friend. That's it."

Last night, walking me to the dorms, he had looked at me with that eager-to-please expression. "See, Eden? I'm always on your side. If you hate someone, they don't exist to me."

Under the dim streetlights, his eyes had shone like stars. For a second, I thought the nightmare was over.

I was wrong. Reality just backhanded me across the face.

I scrubbed the tears from my cheeks. Panic rose in my chest. I had to go. I turned too fast. My pen slipped from my pocket.

Clatter.

The sound was a gunshot in the quiet hallway. The laughter inside died instantly.

I scrambled to pick it up. My fingers grazed the cold metal barrel.

"Eden?" Carson was already there. "How long have you been standing there?"

Carson has beautiful eyes. Peach-blossom shaped, upturned at the corners. I used to spend hours sketching them. Now? I looked into them and saw a stranger.

"Just got here." My voice was steady. It surprised me. "You guys seemed like you were having fun. I didn't want to interrupt."

"You're being too sensitive." Carson ran a hand through his hair. That rare look of panic flickered across his usually relaxed face. "She kept pestering me this morning. Said she absolutely had to compensate me. I figured if I just took the cleaning fee, that would be the end of it. I wanted to save you the headache of misunderstanding."

"So it's resolved then."

I locked eyes with him. I enunciated every word. "If I asked you to delete her right now, would you?"

Carson froze.

Then, the annoyance crept in. "Eden, don't be like that. Deleting someone for no reason? That makes things so awkward. She was just trying to apologize. Is it really that big of a deal?"

Is it really that big of a deal?

Chapter 2

Is it really that big of a deal?

The words weren't words. They were a dull, rusty blade. Sawing through my chest. Slow. Agonizing.

Something inside my ribcage snapped. A physical break.

My arm felt heavy. Like lead. I peeled his fingers off my wrist. "Yes."

My voice was barely a whisper. A ghost of a sound.

"It is."

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to scream. But my body betrayed me. Hot liquid welled up, spilling over my lashes before I could blink it back. A useless, humiliating flood.

Carson froze. Panic flickered in his eyes. He reached out, his hand hovering near my face. "Eden, I'm sorry, I didn't mean"

He never finished.

"Carson!"

A voice like syrup cut through the air.

Sierra appeared at the top of the stairs. High ponytail bouncing. The sunlight seemed to catch every strand, making her glow. She trotted over. A perfect, sunny smile plastered on her face.

"Thank you so much for agreeing to tutor me. I was so scared. Being the new girl is terrifying"

Her gaze slid to me. She paused. The smile deepened, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Is Eden here for tutoring too? Thats perfect! We can all study together."

My head snapped up. The blood drained from my face, leaving me cold. Freezing.

Carson was brilliant. He was also arrogant. Teachers had begged him for years to peer-tutor. To help the struggling kids. He always said no. He didn't have the patience. He didn't care.

Except for me.

I thought I was special. I thought I was the exception.

Turns out, for Sierra, my "special" was just low-hanging fruit.

Sierra watched my silence. Her voice dropped an octave. Soft. Innocent. "We're sisters, after all. You wouldn't mind a little thing like this, right?"

My hands were shaking. A fine, uncontrollable tremor running through my fingertips. I sucked in a breath. I tried to steady my voice.

"I do mind."

Sierras eyes instantly watered. On cue. "Eden are you mad at me?" She bit her lip. "Okay. Never mind. I won't do it. Please don't be mad."

Carson stepped in front of her. Shielding her. His brows drew together.

"Eden, she was a dance major. Her academics are way behind. She just switched tracks. She actually needs the help."

Turns out, he already knew everything about her.

"Get a tutor then." My voice wobbled. "Why does it have to be you?"

"Eden, please" A single, perfect tear tracked down Sierra's cheek. "I'm not doing it. Seriously. Don't fight because of me."

She hugged her textbooks to her chest and spun around. Her footsteps were chaotic. Frantic. She hit the stairs. Stumbled.

"Ah!"

Sierra clutched her ankle, her face scrunching up in pain.

Carson moved. Instinctively, he started to chase after her.

"Carson."

I called his name. My voice was steady. Deadly.

"If you walk away right now. We are done. Completely."

He stopped. He looked back at me.

For a second, my heart hammered against my ribs. A tiny, foolish spark of hope.

Then, his expression hardened. His eyes went cold. Filled with a disgust I had never seen before.

He let out a short, sharp laugh. "Eden. No wonder even your parents don't like you."

He turned and ran down the stairs.

The hallway was suddenly empty. A draft blew through. I shuddered. The cold seeped into my marrow.

My notebook had fallen. I didn't remember dropping it. The wind flipped the pages. Back and forth. It landed on a page of math corrections. Carson's handwriting. He had stayed up all night helping me with those.

I crouched down. My vision swam. The world was a watercolor painting left out in the rain.

A tear landed on the paper. The ink bled. A dark, spreading circle.

It looked like a bruise. Or a stain that was fading away.

Just like us.

It would dry soon. And then there would be nothing left.

Chapter 3

I walked back to the classroom. Numb. I collapsed onto my desk. My shoulders shook. Violent, uncontrollable spasms.

I didn't know how long I lay there.

Rustle.

A sound from the back of the room. I jumped. My head snapped up.

In the back corner, a school blazer shifted. A pair of pale, long fingers pushed the fabric aside. A face emerged. Cold. Sharp.

Alistair.

The genius who held the number one spot in our grade with a stranglehold. Carson's arch-nemesis. He always sat in the back row. Always sleeping. Yet he always crushed Carson in every exam.

"You're too loud." Alistair sat up. The blazer slid down to his lap. His voice was rasping. Rough with sleep.

"I I'm sorry." I frantically wiped my face. "I didn't see you there."

Alistair didn't answer. He just stared at me for a few seconds. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be at your tutoring session with Carson right now?"

I froze.

How did Alistair know about that? He was a lone wolf. He never cared about anyone else's business.

Once, Mrs. Monroe asked him to tabulate the competition roster. He glanced at the sign-up sheet and asked, "Who is this?"

"Someone in our class? Oh. Doesn't ring a bell."

But because his family practically owned the town, even the principal went out of his way to greet him. No one dared to gossip about him.

"How did you know" The question slipped out.

"The so-called Golden Boy comes running to our class every day. Making a scene." Alistair's tone was flat. Bored. "The gossip flies everywhere. It would be harder not to know."

He tilted his head. "So. Why are you crying? Because he won't tutor you anymore?"

I looked down at my hands. "Yeah."

"Second place. Is that really something to cry over?" Alistair raised a brow. His voice dripped with his trademark indifference. "With his mediocre skills, what could he possibly teach you anyway?"

It was arrogant. It was rude. But I couldn't help but retort. "You're first place. Of course you don't care"

"I'll tutor you."

"What?"

My brain short-circuited. I thought I was hallucinating.

Alistair stood up. He walked over to me. He was tall. Even taller than Carson. He stood next to my desk, casting a long shadow over me.

I looked up. Up close, his features were terrifyingly perfect. If Alistair wasn't so aggressively antisocial, the title of "School Heartthrob" wouldn't belong to Carson.

"I said, I'll tutor you." Alistair looked down at me. He repeated the words. Slow. Deliberate.

"R-really?" It felt like winning the lottery. I was stunned.

"But I have a condition." Alistair leaned down. He brought his face level with mine.

His eyes were unique. Not like Carson's peach-blossom eyes. These were narrow, elongated. Phoenix eyes. A tiny beauty mark sat just under the tail of his right eye.

"What condition?"

"From now on, the breakfast you usually give to Carson? You give it to me." He spoke slowly. Watching my reaction. "Oh, and the water you bring him during basketball games? Mine."

He paused. The corner of his mouth ticked up. A microscopic smirk. "Basically, you're my sidekick now."

That wasn't hard. I wasn't planning on having anything to do with Carson anymore anyway.

"Okay." I heard my own voice. Steady. "I agree."

"Tomorrow morning. Cafeteria. Sandwich from window three." He turned and walked toward the door. Cool. Detached.

He stopped at the threshold. He glanced back over his shoulder. "And bring milk. I hate soy milk."

"Mission accepted." I nodded solemnly.

Chapter 4

The next day. I bought breakfast and walked out of the cafeteria.

My path was blocked.

Carson.

There were faint shadows under his eyes. He clearly hadn't slept well.

"Eden." His gaze dropped to the breakfast bag in my hand. The tension in his brow instantly dissolved. "I knew you wouldn't hold a grudge."

He let out a breath, looking relieved. "I was wrong yesterday. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."

He reached out. A natural, practiced motion to take the bag from me.

"This isn't for you." I sidestepped.

His hand grabbed empty air.

Carson froze. His arm hung suspended in the space between us. His expression curdled from relief to shock. "What did you say?"

"This is for Alistair." I looked him in the eye. My tone was flat.

Carson's face cycled through confusion, disbelief, and finally, anger. He let out a cold, sharp laugh.

"Eden. Are you done throwing a tantrum? Do you have any idea how bad Sierra's sprain is? The doctor said if I hadn't gotten her to the hospital in time, she might never have danced properly again."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Frustrated. He softened his voice, trying the reasonable angle. "So, given the situation, I would have helped even if she were a stranger. Can you just stop overthinking this?"

"Help whoever you want. You don't need to explain it to me." I stepped around him. "The breakfast is getting cold. I have to go."

"Eden!" Carson grabbed my wrist. His grip was hard. Painful. "Stop joking around. Alistair? Everyone knows he thinks he's a god. His family owns half the city."

His fingers dug into my skin. "Why would someone like him ever give you the time of day"

"What's the hold-up?"

A voice cut through the air. Cold. Deep.

Carson choked on his words.

Alistair walked over. I didn't even see where he came from. He stopped right in front of us. His eyes weren't on me. They were locked on Carson's hand gripping my wrist.

The morning light carved out his tall, imposing silhouette. He wasn't doing anything. He was just standing there. But the temperature around us plummeted. The air grew heavy. Suffocating.

Carson flinched, his grip loosening instinctively.

Alistair reached out. He took the breakfast bag from my hand. Smooth. Entitled. He didn't look at Carson. He didn't acknowledge Carson's existence.

It was the ultimate form of disrespect. Weaponized indifference.

"Did you finish the problems I sent you last night?" He looked down at me.

I blinked, snapping out of the trance. "Y-Yes. I did."

"Good. Give it here." Alistair extended a hand. "I'll grade it during homeroom. Come get it after class. Correct the mistakes before the end of the day, and I'll explain them to you."

"Okay." I immediately dug into my bag.

I pulled out the neatly written worksheet and handed it to him. I fell into step beside him, my legs working double time to keep up with his long strides.

Alistair scanned the paper as he walked. "Not bad. Your accuracy on the multiple choice is high."

He stopped. Turned. I almost walked into him.

"What are you staring at? Homeroom is starting."

"Oh! Right!" I scrambled to follow, switching instantly into student mode. "But the long-form questions I'm still stuck on that one derivative problem. Especially the second part"

We walked away. Talking. Existing in our own world.

Behind us, Carson stood rooted to the spot. His hand was still raised in mid-air. His face was a mask of twisted, seething humiliation.

Chapter 5

The final bell rang.

I was staring blankly at my physics test.

Alistair sat across from me. His red pen slashed across the paper, leaving a trail of corrections. He read fast. But every mark was terrifyingly precise.

"Free body diagram is wrong." He tapped the paper with the end of the pen. "Here. Gravity and normal force aren't a balanced pair. You missed the friction."

"Got it." I grabbed my pen and started scribbling corrections.

The classroom door creaked open.

Sierra stood there. Her eyes were rimmed red. She was wearing a pale pink dress that made her skin look porcelain white. School uniforms had been handed out days ago. She apparently decided they were optional.

"Eden?" Her voice was small. Trembling. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

My hand paused. Then I kept writing.

Sierra bit her lip. She walked in anyway, stopping right next to my desk. "Eden, about yesterday I really didn't mean to cause trouble. I didn't know you'd get so mad about Carson tutoring me Can you forgive me?"

My pen halted. A dot of ink bled into the paper, turning into a dark blotch.

"You said your piece," I said, not looking up. "You can go now. I'm studying."

"I'm not leaving until you forgive me." Sierra stood her ground. Her voice wobbled, a threat wrapped in a sob.

"Suit yourself. Stand there all night for all I care." My voice was flat.

The room went quiet. The only sounds were the scratch of my pen and the occasional flip of Alistair's page. Time ticked by. Sierra realized the guilt trip wasn't working. Her legs were probably getting tired.

She pivoted. She turned her watery doe eyes toward Alistair.

"Alistair? Have we met somewhere before?"

Alistair didn't answer. He didn't even blink.

She didn't give up. "Can you help me talk to Eden? I really just want her to forgive me"

Alistair finally looked up.

My chest tightened. Was he buying the act? Hope sparked in Sierra's eyes.

Alistair's expression was business as usual. "Move. You're blocking my light."

Sierra's face froze. The mask slipped.

I blinked, stunned. A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth.

The sky outside was turning a bruised purple.

"Still at it?" Walt, the security guard, poked his head in. "Go home, kids. Locking up in five."

I checked the time. Almost eight.

"That's it for today." Alistair packed his books. He pulled a wrapped muffin out of his bag and tossed it to me. "It's late. Eat something."

It was a gesture of thoughtfulness that didn't match his cold exterior at all.

"Thanks" I reached for it.

Sierra suddenly swayed. She grabbed the edge of the desk, her face going pale. "I I stood too long. I haven't eaten all day I think my blood sugar is dropping"

She eyed the muffin in Alistair's hand. "Can I have that? Please? I feel really faint"

Alistair didn't hand it over. He looked at me. "It's yours. Your call."

I blinked.

"She's asking you," he repeated, his voice patient. "Do you want to give her your food?"

I flashed a plastic smile at Sierra. My voice was crisp. "Nope. No obligation."

Sierra's expression cracked. "But but I really don't feel well"

She wouldn't quit. She turned back to Alistair, desperation creeping in. "Don't you have another one? I promise I'll buy you one tomorrow"

Alistair zipped his bag. He looked her dead in the eye. Face completely emotionless.

"Sorry. Germaphobe."

Pfft.

I burst out laughing. I couldn't help it. Sierra turned red, then white. She stomped out of the room, the sick act forgotten.

The classroom was finally quiet. Just me and Alistair.

"Tomorrow. Breakfast burrito. Station one." Alistair's expression was business as usual.

"Alistair." I called out as he turned to leave. "Thank you."

He looked back, raising a brow. "For what?"

"Nothing." I hugged the muffin to my chest, smiling. "Just thanks."

Chapter 6

Time has a way of blurring when you're busy.

The past few months studying with Alistair were the quietest, most fulfilling days of my high school life. Finals were approaching. Mrs. Monroe announced that the school was providing private, unlimited-access study rooms for the top-ranking classes.

"Go apply for one." Alistair snapped his notebook shut after study hall. "Efficiency is critical right before finals."

"Okay." I nodded. "Now?"

"Yeah."

We walked side-by-side toward the administration office. I pushed the heavy door open. And there they were. The two people I hadn't seen up close in months.

Carson stood in front of the Dean's desk. Sierra was leaning against his side, clinging like ivy.

"Mrs. Monroe, Sierra just transferred here. Her foundation is really shaky." Carson's voice was gentle. Persuasive. "I'd like to request a private study room to help catch her up"

The Dean pushed up his glasses. He saw us enter. A microscopic frown creased his forehead. "Alistair. Eden. You're here for a room too?"

"Correct." Alistair didn't waste words. "Finals review requires a silent environment."

"I see" The Dean looked pained. "We only have one key left."

The room went dead silent.

Sierra's eyes darted around. Calculating. Then, she adopted that soft, trembling voice. "Eden I know you need it too But my math is so bad. If I don't catch up, I'll drag down the whole class average"

She looked at me with big, wet eyes. "Maybe you could let me have it? Your grades are always so good. Unlike mine"

I knew that tone. I knew it down to my bones. A pit opened in my stomach. A premonition of disaster.

Right on cue, Mrs. Monroe chimed in.

"Eden? I didn't realize you were sisters. You never mentioned it. Since she's new, you really should look out for her more. Why don't you let your little sister have this one"

My heart sank. Like a stone in deep water.

Again. It was always like this.

I opened my mouth to argue. To fight back.

"Since when are grades a charity case?"

Alistair's voice cut through the air. Everyone froze. All eyes snapped to him.

"If academic resources are being distributed based on age hierarchy instead of merit," Alistair continued, his tone calm but carrying the weight of a sledgehammer. "Then maybe I should sit out the Physics Olympiad this year. Give the underclassmen a chance to step up."

Mrs. Monroe's face drained of color.

Alistair was the school's ace card. They were banking on him for the state, maybe even national gold. If he quit, the administration would have her head on a spike. Not to mention, Alistair's family practically paid for the new science wing.

"Ahem. Well" Mrs. Monroe backpedaled so fast she almost tripped. "I've thought about it. Alistair's performance is stellar, and Eden has shown immense improvement. It makes more sense for you two to have the room."

"Mrs. Monroe." Carson frowned, stepping forward. "But Sierra"

"Carson." Mrs. Monroe cut him off. Her tone left no room for argument. "You and Sierra can use the library. The environment there is perfectly fine. That's final."

She handed a brass key to Alistair. "Room 306. Don't lose it."

"Thank you." Alistair took the key. He didn't even look at them. He turned to me. "Let's go."

I scrambled to keep up with him. We walked out of the office. Footsteps pounded behind us. Carson was chasing us down.

Chapter 7

"Eden."

Carson intercepted me at the corner of the hallway. His face was stormy.

"Do you have to be so petty? Sierra is your sister. It's just a study room. Why can't you just let her have it?"

I stopped dead. I looked at him.

"It's my fault again, isn't it?" My voice was terrifyingly calm. Flatline steady. "No matter what happens, if it involves her, I'm automatically the villain."

"That's not what I mean" Carsons brow furrowed with impatience. "Can't you just be the bigger person? She really needs this right now."

"What about me?"

The dam broke.

"Carson, do I not need it? I gave up my bedroom for her. I gave up my parents' love for her. Now I have to give up my quiet place to study too? How much of myself do I have to carve away before you think I've been 'big' enough?"

"I just" He opened his mouth but couldn't finish.

"You just think she's pitiful," I finished for him. My voice was razor sharp. "But just because she's pitiful, does that mean I deserve to be collateral damage?"

I didn't wait for an answer. I turned my back on him and walked away.

Alistair was waiting at the stairwell. He was leaning against the wall, hands buried deep in his pockets. When he saw me, he pushed off the wall and stood straight. We walked down the stairs in silence. Single file.

We stepped out of the building. The night wind hit my face.

That's when I realized my cheeks were wet. I looked down, frantically wiping at my eyes. But the more I wiped, the faster they fell.

"Why are you crying?" Alistair's voice came from above me. Low. Grounding.

I shook my head. My throat was too tight to speak.

"Carson is blind. That's his problem," Alistair said. A tissue appeared in my line of sight. "It has nothing to do with you."

"It's not just that" I sniffled. My breath hitched, jagged and painful.

The memories hit me like a physical blow to the gut.

Flashback.

Years ago. Sierra decided studying was too hard. She wanted to dance. Competitive dance is expensive.

My mother tore my sketchbook in half. Riiip.

"Art supplies cost money, Eden. Dance costs money. We can only afford to support one dream. Your grades are good, you don't need art. Stop being so dramatic."

A few years later. Sierra complained the house was too small. She needed a home studio. My room had the best light. The next day, my boxes were shoved into the drafty attic.

"Some kids go to boarding school at twelve," my father had said, not even looking at me. "You're in high school. You can handle a different room. Seriously, is it that big of a deal?"

Then came the silence. Sierra and I went to the same school, different tracks.

Parent-Teacher Conference Night. My assigned seat was always empty. A hollow space where a parent should be. I begged them. Just once. Just one of them. Please.

They never came.

And then, the bathroom.

Some delinquents cornered me. The click of the lock. Ice-cold water dumped over the stall door. Drenching me. Freezing my skin.

They looked down at me, their eyes filled with a cruel pity. "I thought you said your mommy and daddy were coming to save you? Poor little orphan. Did you lie again?"

Bang!

The door splintered open. Carson. He had kicked the door in. He wrapped his jacket around my shivering body and carried me to the nurse. From that day on, he was my shadow. My shield. He promised I would never be cold again.

But now?

Even the shield had been stolen.

Chapter 8

"Its not just him. Its everyone." My voice cracked. The words spilled out, messy and broken. "My parents. My teachers. My classmates everyone prefers her. Every single time. It happens so often that I cant help it. I start to wonder if theres something wrong with me. Not once or twice. Every time. Every person."

Alistair stopped walking. The sound of his footsteps ceased, creating a sudden, heavy silence in the cool night air.

"I won't."

I looked up. My vision was blurred by tears, turning him into a dark, steady shape against the streetlights. "What?"

"I said, I won't." Alistair looked at me. His gaze was solid. Grounding. "I will never like her more than you. I will never choose her over you. And I will never think you should step aside for her."

His tone was so certain, so absolute, that for a moment, I forgot to cry.

"How can you be so sure?" I couldn't help but ask.

Alistair was silent for a few seconds.

"Because when I was seven, I almost drowned. You saved my life."

His voice softened. It wasn't the cold, arrogant tone he used in class. It was warm. Safe.

"I was never a likeable kid. Didn't have any friends. You were the only one willing to play with me. We even had a childhood engagement. We pinky-promised that when we grew up, we'd get married."

I froze.

"But then your family moved away suddenly. I never saw you again." He let out a short, bitter breath. "On the first day of school, I recognized you instantly. But you didn't seem to remember me. I thought you had moved on. That you had a new life. A new him. So I decided to just watch over you from a distance."

"You're joking, right?" I wiped my eyes, confused. "How could I forget something that huge?"

"It's true." Alistair's eyes held mine. Serious. Intense. "Back then, I promised you that next time, I would be the one to protect you. That's why I will always be on your side. Unconditionally."

I opened my mouth to speak. To ask more.

"Is it you?"

A shrill, excited voice cut through the air behind us.

Sierra.

I didn't know how long she had been following us. Her eyes were wide, practically glowing with manic energy. She sprinted over to Alistair.

"Alistair! Did you live at your grandpa's house when you were little? Do you have a birthmark shaped like a crescent moon on your waist?"

She didn't wait for an answer. She reached out. Her hands went straight for the hem of his uniform shirt.

"Let go" Alistair recoiled, his voice dripping with disgust. He tried to shove her away.

But he was too late. The fabric lifted. Exposing the skin of his side.

There, pale against his ribs, was a light brown birthmark. Shaped perfectly like a crescent moon.

The air solidified.

I stared at the mark. My brain stuttered. Then I looked at Sierra's face. She was vibrating with excitement.

For years, I had wandered between disappointment and hope, waiting for someone to claim me. And now, judgment day had arrived.

"It really is you!" Sierra's voice trembled. "The boy I saved when I was little it's really you! No wonder you looked so familiar the first time I saw you"

Chapter 9