The image of Ferris calling me kept flashing through my foggy mind, but I had no strength to pick up my phone.
I could only let it vibrate repeatedly until it finally fell silent.
The next day, my fever finally broke, but my throat felt dry as if burned by fire.
I struggled to sit up, drank some water, then picked up my phone.
On the screen were over ten unread messages, all from Ashley.
I opened them, and the first image made my pupils constrict sharply-
That precious cashmere shawl was completely soaked in water, its originally soft fibers clumped together wetly, already deformed.
Messages appeared one after another:
[Sorry, I forgot the shawl couldn’t touch water and soaked it as soon as I got home.]
[I’m really sorry. How much did this shawl cost? I’ll compensate you. The material is quite good anyway–I can keep it and alter it into a scarf or something.]
[Since you’re not responding, I’ll take that as agreement. I’ll compensate you 30 dollars. You said your grandmother made it, so that price should be about right, shouldn’t it?]
The last image showed the shawl cut to pieces, with edges deliberately shredded into strips as if maliciously destroyed.
My hands trembled as rage shot straight to my head.
I threw back the covers and, ignoring my lingering fever, rushed straight out the door.
At Ashley’s apartment entrance, I pressed the doorbell, my eyes frighteningly cold.
The door opened. Ashley, wearing casual clothes, looked at me with some surprise: “Luna, why are you here?”
“Where is my shawl?” My voice was ice–cold.
At my words, Ashley turned and picked up the shredded shawl from the sofa.
You mean this? Didn’t I already pay for it?”
She looked down at her phone. “Didn’t you receive that 30–dollar transfer? Do you think it’s too little? I can add another 20. It was made by an elderly person anyway, so it shouldn’t be too expensive…”
“Slap!”
A resounding slap struck Ashley’s face hard. She staggered back a step, covering her cheek and looking at me in disbelief: “You… you hit me?”
My gaze was sharp as I spoke each word clearly: “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”
Ashley’s eyes immediately reddened, her voice choking with tears: “What do you mean on purpose? I don’t understand what you’re saying…”
“Deliberately calling Ferris when your mother needed bone marrow donation, deliberately saying those things to me in the hospital room, deliberately barging in when Ferris and I were kissing, and now deliberately destroying my shawl-”
I stepped closer, my voice cold as ice: “Ashley, I’m telling you, I can see through many of your tricks. Just because I don’t speak up doesn’t mean I’ll continue letting you humiliate me like this!”
Ashley’s expression changed, but her tears fell even harder: “I didn’t… I really don’t know what you’re talking about…”
1 gritted my teeth, about to speak again, when suddenly a cold voice came from the doorway-
“Aurora, what are you doing!”
I spun around sharply. Ferris stood at the entrance, his expression terrifyingly dark.
“Ashley!”
Ferris strode to Ashley, his fingers gently touching the red mark on her face, his eyes pained as if he’d been burned.
“She hit you? What happened?”
Ashley tearfully explained everything, and Ferris’s expression grew increasingly grim.
“It’s just a shawl–was it necessary to hit someone?” He turned to question me, his voice cold as ice.
“Just a shawl?” My voice trembled. “Ferris, that was the only thing my grandmother left me!”
Ferris was stunned for a moment.
In the three years as his Luna, I had always been gentle and proper, never even raising my voice.
My reddened eyes and trembling shoulders now made him feel momentarily strange.
“Ashley didn’t do it intentionally,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “She’s already compensated you. What more do you want? If you’re unsatisfied with the amount, I’ll pay.”
He pulled out a checkbook from his suit pocket, generously wrote a figure and handed it over: “Is this enough?”
