He just wouldn''t let it go.
Every few days, he''d find a reason to provoke Victor.
But Victor, as if he''d burned through all his emotions, never reacted. He just stared back, cold and distant, with a look that seemed to say, "Finley, you''re an idiot."
Infuriated, Finley would storm off, determined not to bother with him anymore.
But after a while, he''d find himself seeking out the prince again.
One day, he noticed someone else by Victor''s side—a girl.
Victor was still reserved, but something had changed. He''d started to show hints of emotion, even managed the asional smile.
Seriously?
All the care and warmth Finley had tried to give him-Victor never noticed. But apparently, it took some random girl to get through to him!
When Finley suddenly brought up the past, Victor''s eyes darkened. Maybe it was the alcohol, heavy and heady, that loosened his tongue and pulled out memories he''d thought were long forgotten.
He remembered how he''d first met Isadora.
They were just kids, both in the hospital.
He''d seen her once: a little girl being harshly scolded by a woman in a nurse''s uniform. "Why don''t you just disappear!" the woman had snapped.
Isadora looked so small and wounded, blinking back tears, but refusing to cry. Victor, though, didn''t feel any particr sympathy.
The next time he saw her, she''d stumbled into his secret hideout-the hospital''s rooftop.
He told her coldly to leave, not to bother him.
Her already-reddened eyes grew even brighter with unshed tears, and finally, they spilled over.
"I''m sorry," she whispered. "My mom yelled at me. I just wanted to find a ce to cry."
Then, as if questioning herself, she murmured, "Why doesn''t anyone like me?" And with that, she wiped her eyes and ran away.
Victor still didn''t feel much—except maybe a faint annoyance at how her eyes were always red. It was exhausting just to look at her.
A few dayster, he ran into her again.
She was crouched in a corner, petting a stray puppy-the same one that wouldter be called Pudding.
When she noticed him, she hesitated for a long moment before shuffling over, clearly nervous.
"Um, do you have any food?" she asked softly. "I want to feed the puppy."
Victor studied her for a few seconds, his gaze shifting to the scrawny, dirty puppy that looked just as underfed as she was.
He almost walked away, but for some reason, he reached into his pocket and handed her two sticks of jerky.
Her eyes lit up. "Thank you."
She gave one to the puppy.
Then her own stomach let out a loud growl.
She pressed her lips together, but finally, unable to resist, nibbled on the other stick herself.
Victor, still expressionless, asked, "Are you poor?"
The question made her cheeks flush red.
"I''ll pay you back for the jerky," she blurted out.
Whether it was embarrassment or just the truth hitting too close, she scooped up the puppy and ran off.
The fourth time, she sought him out.
She wore the same pair of faded jeans that looked like they''d been washed a hundred times. Her hands trembled as she held one out, revealing the same brand of jerky he''d given her.
"These are expensive," she said. "I worked in the cafeteria for a few days to earn the money. Here, I''m paying you back."
Victor nced at her red, chapped hands. He took the jerky from her, then tossed it straight into the trash.
She clearly hadn''t expected that. Her eyes went wide, brimming with a mix of anger and distress.
She dashed to the trash can and snatched the jerky back out.
"How could you do that?" she cried. "Don''t you know there are people in this world who don''t even get enough to eat?"
"I didn''t mean to eat your jerky that day," she added, her voice shaking. "My mom hadn''t spoken to me in almost a week. I was just so hungry, I couldn''t help it."
Just then, the scruffy puppy leapt out, pawing frantically at Victor as if protesting on her behalf.
Victor couldn''t exin the irritation churning inside him; it had been a long time since he''d felt much of anything at all.
He muttered, "So stupid," and walked away.