Chapter 3: Charity Cases

I didn’t wait for a reply. I pulled out the chair directly beside her and sat down.

Up close, the signs of exhaustion were undeniable. Dark, heavy circles shadowed her eyes behind those thick glasses, and her hands were subtly trembling as she flipped through a dense finance textbook.

"Hey," I started, keeping my voice low so as not to draw the librarian’s attention. "Looks like you’re going through a lot of material."

Chloe flinched slightly at the sudden proximity, pulling her oversized grey hoodie tighter around herself. She kept her eyes glued to her notebook, her posture tense and defensive.

"I’m busy," she said, her tone cold and distant.

"I can see that," I replied smoothly, trying to break the ice. "Just thought you might want a break. You’ve been staring at that page for five minutes without turning it."

That was the breaking point. The constant stress, the fatigue, and the sheer pressure she was under snapped all at once.

"Look, I don’t know who sent you or what you want, but I don’t have time for this!" she hissed, turning her head sharp to glare at me, her voice cracking with pure irritation. "Just leave me alone!"

A few students in the nearby rows turned to look.

Chloe’s eyes immediately went wide. The anger vanished, replaced by instant regret and sheer panic. Her face flushed bright red as she shrank back into her chair, ducking her head.

"I-I’m sorry," she whispered frantically, her hands shaking worse than before. "I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped. I just... I haven’t slept, and I’m really stressed. I’m sorry."

"Hey, it’s alright. Seriously, don’t worry about it," I said, keeping my tone gentle as I held up my hands. "You’re running on empty. Straining yourself like this when you’re completely stressed isn’t going to help you absorb any of that anyway."

Chloe stared at her desk, her shoulders still tight. "I can’t just stop," she grumbled, her voice barely above a whisper as she tightly gripped her pen. "I don’t have time to relax. If I fall behind on these assignments, I lose my tuition discount, and I can’t..." She trailed off, biting her lower lip in frustration.

"I get it," I said smoothly. "But sitting here staring at the same line for another hour won’t fix it either. Come on. Let’s just go for a short stroll around campus. Five or ten minutes of fresh air."

She froze, looking up at me through her thick frames with deep suspicion. Her eyes flicked over my messy hair and the subtle tear on my shirt collar. "A stroll? Why? I don’t even know you."

"Because you look like you’re about to pass out, and honestly, I could use a break myself," I replied, offering a light, non-threatening smile. "Just ten minutes. If you still want to come back and drown in textbooks after that, I won’t stop you."

Chloe hesitated, looking between her heavy stack of notes and the library window. She let out a long, defeated sigh, finally capping her pen. "Fine. Just a few minutes."

She packed her things into her worn backpack, hugged it tightly against her chest, and stood up. As we walked out of the library together, she maintained a deliberate step of distance between us, her guard still completely up, but she was stepping outside all the same.

We strolled along the stone paths of the quad, the autumn breeze picking up around us. Every time I tried to ask a personal question or steer the conversation toward her, Chloe shut down, giving short, defensive answers and keeping her eyes fixed strictly on her worn sneakers.

She was an iron vault. If I wanted her to trust me, I couldn’t just keep probing. I had to show some skin first.

"You know," I said, looking out toward the main square where Julian’s crowd was usually lounging, "you’re not the only one having a trash day."

She didn’t answer, but her pace slowed down just a fraction.

"I got my scholarship revoked about an hour ago," I said plainly. "Got into a fight with some rich trust-fund kid, ended up in Dean Vance’s office, and got kicked to the curb. Zero balance in my bank account, no safety net, and officially on the fast track to getting dropped from the university."

Chloe stopped in her tracks. Her head snapped toward me, her eyes wide behind her thick lenses. "What? They... they just canceled your scholarship? Over one fight?"

"Yep. Money talks, and I’m broke," I said with a slight, bitter shrug. I made sure to keep any mention of the system strictly inside my head. "So believe me when I say I understand what stress feels like. But spiraling and pushing yourself until you collapse isn’t going to fix anything. Sometimes you just have to step back, catch your breath, and figure out your next move with a clear head."

She stared at me, the sharp guard in her expression melting into a mix of shock and quiet empathy. The distance between us suddenly didn’t feel so wide anymore.

I gestured toward a quiet, grassy hill at the edge of the upper campus—a spot overlooking the entire grounds with a stone bench nestled under an old oak tree. It was my favorite place to get away from the noise.

We walked up the incline and paused near the top. The cool breeze swept over the hill, carrying away the stifling heat of the day. Chloe took a long, deep breath, her shoulders visibly dropping as she looked out over the campus landscape.

Chloe stood beside me at the edge of the hill, her eyes fixed on the distant campus buildings below. The cool breeze pulled a few stray strands of hair from her messy bun, but for the first time since I met her, her shoulders weren’t hunched in defensive panic.

"The Dean..." she started softly, her voice barely louder than the rustle of the oak leaves above us. She hesitated, her fingers tightly lacing together around the strap of her backpack. "Dean Vance is my uncle."

I kept my expression neutral, letting her take her time.

"I live at his house," she continued, a bitter, hollow laugh escaping her throat. "Everyone on campus thinks I must have it easy because of that, but it’s... it’s a nightmare. I’m not treated like family. I’m treated like an inconvenience. A charity case they constantly remind me to be grateful for."

She looked down at her worn sneakers, her voice trembling slightly as months of suppressed frustration began to spill out.

"His wife barely speaks to me, his kids treat me like a maid, and he reminds me every single day that if my grades drop even a fraction, he’ll throw me out on the street. I cook, I clean, I study until three in the morning, and it’s never enough. I can’t stay there anymore. I feel like I’m choking every time I step through that front door."

She paused, taking a shaky breath, startled by how much she had just confessed to a guy she had only met an hour ago. She quickly glanced at me, biting her lower lip as if waiting for judgment or pity.

Instead, I looked at her with total understanding. I knew exactly how it felt to be trapped under the thumb of people who thought their money made them gods.

"Then don’t stay," I said quietly, the system interface in my vision gleaming with potential. "You deserve a place where you can actually breathe."

"How about I help you with your living situation?" I said, turning to face her fully. "Let’s get you out of that house and into a proper apartment. Somewhere quiet, where you can actually study, sleep, and live like a human being."

Chloe blinked, stepping back a full pace as her eyes widened behind her thick glasses. The initial softness vanished, replaced by an immediate wall of thick suspicion.

"Get me an apartment?" she repeated, her voice dripping with skepticism. "We literally just met. Nobody does something like that for nothing. What do you actually want in return?"

"Nothing," I replied smoothly, keeping my stance completely relaxed. "I just want to see you out of that environment so you can breathe for once."

Chloe let out a sharp, incredulous scoff, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Right. ’Nothing.’ That makes zero sense," she said, searching my face as if trying to catch me in a lie. "If you actually have enough money sitting around to rent or buy an apartment, why wouldn’t you just use it to pay your own tuition fees? You just told me you lost your scholarship! Why would you waste that kind of money on a stranger?"

She shook her head, taking another half-step back.

"I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m not becoming a burden to anyone—and I’m definitely not taking charity with hidden strings attached."