Beatrice understood exactly what Halle meant by “greet her.” Beatrice said, “Okay, Mom. I’ll wait for Briar at the school gate.”


    “And I can even show her around campus,” she added. Both of them smiled, sharing the unspoken understanding.


    Meanwhile, Briar, weaving through traffic on her motorbike, received a call from Ashton. “Briar, don’t forget to register at school today.”


    “Of course not. I’m on my way now,” Briar answered, her gaze fixed ahead. Her voice came soft and low from inside her helmet, surprisingly


    gentle.


    Realizing Briar was riding, Ashton asked, “Going alone?”


    “Yeah,” Briar answered.


    “Poor thing, need a ride?” Ashton inquired. The rift between Briar and the Jennings family wasmon knowledge. He knew Edgar wouldn’t bother seeing her off.


    “Nah, I’m not that fragile.” Briar chuckled, turning down his offer.


    Ashton didn’t push. “Alright, dinner tonight then?”


    This time she didn’t refuse. “Sounds good. You pick the spot.”


    “Deal. I’ll text you the addresster,” Ashton confirmed. After a brief exchange, they ended the call.


    Briar was nearing the entrance of Shoneport University. Shoneport, a century–old institution spanning nearly a thousand acres, had six main


    entrances.


    Instead of the crowded front gate, Briar rode her motorbike through a quieter side entrance, pulling right up to the president’s office.


    Beatrice, who’d arrived earlier, waited at the main gate until registration closed, never spotting Briar.


    As she chatted with passing ssmates, she texted Halle: [Mom, registration just ended. I’ve been at the gate this whole time–no sign of Briar, Maybe she’s stuck in traffic?]


    Halle replied instantly: [Then stop waiting.] And she was simultaneously rying Briar’s no–show to Edgar.


    They concluded Briar had been all talk. Without a transfer eptance letter from Shoneport University, there’s no way she could get in.


    Briar had just parked her motorbike when she spotted a man in a grey suit, with white hair but a vigorous demeanor, emerging from the building.


    Marvin looked Briar up and down, then offered a warm, kindly smile. “You must be Briar? m Marvin Goodwin.”


    Briar wore a casual tracksuit, low ponytail, and ck–rimmed sses. Apart from her imposing ck motorbike, she looked every bit the


    model student.


    “Mr. Goodwin, nice to meet you. I’m Briar,<i>” </i>she said politely, tucking her keys into her backpack and hugging it close.


    Such an 18–year–old girl with a soft, pleasant voice and impable manners–Marvin’s impression of Briar improved further.


    Though introduced by Ashton, Briar has real talent in traditional medicine–and she seems so well–behaved. Surely she won’t stir up trouble everywhere like he did, he thought.


    “Very well. Come with me. Let’s process your transfer first, then I’ll take you to the traditional medicine department to meet your advisor<i>.</i><i>” </i>Marvin led Briar into the building.


    As their figures disappeared, Beatrice and her ssmates headed toward the admin building to pick up semester materials from their


    advisor.


    Beatrice caught a familiar figure. Her steps hit the brakes, staring dumbfounded towards the president’s office.


    “Beatrice? What’s wrong?” asked Nancy Galler, Beatrice’s best friend, noticing her sudden stillness.


    Beatrice pointed towards the building. “I think I just saw Briar. She went inside with Mr. Goodwin.”


    Nancy frowned. “But you said you waited ages at the gate and never saw her? Maybe you mistook someone?”


    Another ssmate chimed in, “Heard Mr. Goodwin is on campus today, though.”


    “Still, that can’t be your sister,” someone else added. “Registration closed hours ago. Rules say you need a rescheduled appointment to enroll now.”


    Beatrice felt the tightness in her chest ease. “You’re right. Maybe I was just so worried about her, I started seeing things.”