Sunday Night — On the Way to Remi's Parents' House
Artemis breathed onto the car window, again and again, fog blooming against the glass before fading into faint trails on the cold surface. Night air seeped through the silence. For the second time, she glanced at her six-year-old nephew. Jamie De Rucci.
His parents—Hera and Remi—weren't divorced. Like most couples, they prioritized their child. Attention. Affection. On paper, everything was intact.
Still, Artemis had a bad feeling.
The obedient smile and soft yes that had slipped from Jamie's small lips minutes ago felt fake. Proven now by the way his head hung low, eyes fixed on the cat mascot dangling from his backpack, mouth curving downward.
Artemis had already patted the back of his neck, warning, "Careful, your neck's gonna hurt," but Jamie ignored her. Eventually, Artemis decided not to dig further into whatever the kid was going through.
A photo from Blair popped up on her phone, making her frown.
It showed Blair's socked feet pointed at a television screen. Artemis was certain Blair wasn't at home. She typed quickly, asking if Blair knew his eldest cousin would be visiting. The reply she got, however, went in the opposite direction of what she expected.
Blair laughed at her instead—calling her dramatic for taking Aiden and Remi's visit so seriously. Correction, visiting his grandfather's house. Adrian Portia's. The place Blair still lived in.
When Artemis sent another message, explaining why she thought her brother-in-law's visit mattered, Blair went silent. No reply.
Even though Artemis had typed a long follow-up, adding new information—that Remi's father had tagged along and had dropped Jamie off with her just minutes ago.
She was about to call Blair when Jamie's voice startled her so badly her phone almost slipped from her grip.
Good thing Artemis managed to rein in the sharp reply already forming in her mouth.
The question itself was strange.
"Boys and girls can't be friends, right, Aunty?"
One of Artemis's brows lifted as Boris's image crossed her mind—soft, flamboyant, accepted by girls around him, never once bullied.
"They can," Artemis answered flatly. "If they understand each other."
"So… we can only love and be happy with our best friends?" Jamie asked again.
This time, he wasn't staring at the cat mascot anymore. He followed Artemis's gaze out the window instead.
Artemis wanted to argue.
After all, she still had some happy memories with Lacy—Gita's stepsister, forever meddling in their lives. More precisely, endlessly testing the patience of her former best friend who'd been demoted to younger sibling—the lowest rung in family hierarchy.
Artemis had felt it too. From her father. From her mother. From Apollo's hollow sympathy.
Lacy's blunt honesty was irritating, but still better than Gita's silence—silence that made Artemis question her loyalty.
"Life's unknown, Jam," Artemis said at last. "Sometimes you even end up caring about your enemies."
Jamie's watery eyes flicked toward Artemis, who was still staring blankly at the blur of traffic below—headlights, taillights, neon billboards advertising beauty products.
Jamie's lips trembled further downward as he muttered, bitterly, "They turned my study room and library into a guest room…."
"Huh?" Artemis turned. "Your bedroom can't even fit a huge study desk like that."
Jamie shook his head slowly as Artemis wiped the tears slipping down his cheeks with a tissue. "They gave me a folding table. The books were moved to storage."
Artemis let out a dry laugh. How ironic. His parents employed people in publishing and creative media industries—yet stripped their own child of access to books. To the world.
A room flashed in Artemis's mind. One at the far end of the Portia boarding house. She could ask Blair's permission—turn it into Jamie's little universe of books.
Jamie didn't smile, but his eyes lit up, shocked and happy all at once.
"But don't move the language dictionaries there, okay, Aunty? I need them for studying."
Artemis gave a firm thumbs-up.
And then—Jamie suddenly threw his arms around her waist.
Artemis froze. Her hands hovered mid-air. Her mind rejected the instinct to hug back.
Jamie had a complete family. One that would never stop trying to make him happy.
But seeing him cry—something he rarely did in front of his parents—sent warmth flooding through Artemis's chest.
Even as a child, Jamie trusted her enough to let her see him break.
Monday Morning — 11:00 a.m.
Sleepyheads Capsule Hotel
Blair missed morning classes with Artemis.
Not because Artemis herself was the reason—though she helped. Blair had been raised on discipline since childhood, drilled into him by his parents and his grandfather, Adrian Portia.
Still, studying without Artemis's absurd questions or sharp sarcasm felt empty. Especially in a class where everyone obeyed the lecturer without once questioning absurd deadlines.
A Jaguar Roadster Blair recognized passed the hotel.
Right after Blair texted Artemis about Emily—his former private tutor—asking to meet "to talk."
When Blair opened the back passenger door, the driver's voice stopped him.
"Front seat. Patra's taking the campus shuttle."
True enough—no Patra in sight. Blair closed the door and circled the sleek black car, its vintage twin headlights gleaming.
As he sat in the front passenger seat, the driver—Apollo—still hadn't started the engine.
Blair, about to text Artemis again, noticed the stare.
"What are you looking at me like that for?"
Apollo shrugged, indifferent, though his sharp gaze never softened.
"You remind me of Boris."
Blair scoffed and turned away, dialing Artemis instead.
"I don't care, Polo."
He greeted Artemis cheerfully once she picked up.
"Can I hitch a ride with Dennis? So Jamie can go home with his dad."
Blair grimaced.
"I told you last night—Dennis is picking up Jamie's books before lunch. I'm riding with Apollo and Pat—oh. Patra's not coming. I forgot."
Artemis complained briefly—probably because Jamie was with her. Blair ended the call after telling her Martha had cleaned the empty room. Artemis decided to just order an online ride.
"All the loyal De Rucci staff—Martha, Dennis—moved to Portia," Apollo commented, eyes on the road. "Now your brother-in-law's involved with your cousin. Coincidence, or your grandpa's plan?"
"Loyal?" Blair chuckled, his voice dropping lower than the soprano he used to force.
"Don't be a hypocrite, Polo. If they were loyal, why run under my grandpa's protection?"
"Because stealing and deceiving is in the Portia blood," Apollo snapped. Without slowing down, Apollo grabbed Blair's wrist.
A gold chain bracelet glinted. Attached—a titanium ring Apollo knew too well. Artemis had once made two self-made steel rings. One for herself. One for Charissa.
The storm hit too soon. The other ring should've disappeared forever.
Apollo's eyes narrowed. "How do you know Boris?"
Blair yanked his wrist free, making the car swerve slightly.
"I got this at a thrift shop!"
Apollo exhaled, forcing his anger down. Patra's rejection of his ride offer earlier probably didn't help. "I hope you're not a coward like Boris—just standing there while Artemis got kicked and pelted with eggs!"
Blair didn't answer. He was grateful Apollo only knew him through Artemis's stories. Back then, Boris never crossed paths with Apollo—the senior whose classroom sat one floor above Artemis and Boris's.
Blair stared out the window, eyes glassy.
Apollo's words dragged him back to that dark memory—Artemis standing silent amid insults and thrown eggs.
All because she wore Apollo's old uniform pants.
Back at Sleepyheads Capsule Hotel — 11:30 a.m.
Ethan Luzardi—the only grandson, the only male heir of Rachel Luzardi—had just returned from his morning psychology class.
Lunch. Listening to Cassandra talk about her dreams. Driving her home. Then back to the Luzardi residence. Usually.
Today was different. A lecture assistant—who claimed she'd once matched with Artemis on a dating app—asked him to meet at a capsule hotel.
Right where he now stood.
Despite his friends calling him lucky for being close to Cassandra without the burden of commitment—before eventually marrying someone else—Ethan couldn't shake the smug face of a twelve-year-old girl. Artemis De Rucci.
Back in high school, Ethan had been introduced to Anastashia Wirjadinata. Cassandra's sister. And Apollo's on-again, off-again ex.
"Room eighteen," the receptionist said.
Ethan flinched. That number. The same date he'd ghosted Artemis—out of jealousy over her closeness with Blair.
"Psycho," Ethan muttered as the capsule door opened. A woman stood there. Wearing only a sheer white shirt. For a split second, Ethan froze. Her bone structure. Her height. Too similar.
"Right on time for your turn!" the teaching assistant greeted brightly. Birgitte Aurelis. Wolf-cut hair. Messy curtain bangs. Visual Branding TA in Cassandra's department—Visual Communication Design. Birgit stood from the bed, leaving the paid woman—Artemis's look-alike—lying flat between them.
Ethan sighed. No arousal. None.
"This is the difference between you and me, Miss Birgit," he said pointedly. "I liked Arte not because of her looks, but—"
"Because she always says what she wants," Birgit cut in.
She admitted it. That was why she'd swiped right on a girl five years younger—Artemis's honest film opinions. Her boldness in person.
But after their fight—after Birgit chose another woman—Artemis deleted her account and started sabotaging Birgit online.
The real problem? Birgit hadn't let go. She only dared mock her father's NPD online. Far less brave than Artemis, who openly spoke about Robert's silent treatment.
Birgit shoved a black Zoom F3 field recorder into Ethan's hands, grinning. "Maybe you'll get turned on after hearing her moans."
Ethan sneered, but took it anyway.
As he blocked Birgit—now in a brown coat and beret—from leaving, the paid woman retreated to the bathroom.
"What do you want in return?" Ethan whispered, pushing Birgit back inside and closing the door.
Birgit inhaled deeply, swallowing the ache of being watched differently now—by family. By neighbors.
She wanted Artemis to feel the same.
Spoiled youngest brat like Artemis will never understand what I went through, Birgit screamed inside.