Water splashed against Selina's face without warning.
Cold.
Painful.
Humiliating.
The water gallon she had been pulling slipped from the trolley's grip, fell, and shattered with a loud crash—its contents spilling across the floor like a cruel mockery.
"If you break every gallon I give you, it's not just you who loses money— I do!" the middle-aged woman snapped. "Do you think these gallons fall from the sky?!"
Selina lowered her head. Water dripped from her hair, seeping into the collar of her worn-out clothes.
"I–I'm sorry, ma'am. I slipped. I didn't mea—"
"That's why you're supposed to use those eyes, not keep them shut!" the woman clicked her tongue in disgust. "Get out! I don't want to see you here again!"
"But ma'am, I—"
Before Selina could finish, her arm was yanked roughly. She was dragged outside and shoved away without mercy, her body crashing onto the asphalt.
The impact was brutal. Her knees and palms burned as the skin scraped open.
The curses continued behind the closed door—long, loud, and dripping with contempt.
Selina slowly pushed herself up. Her breathing was heavy.
She knew why she had slipped.
She knew who had pushed her.
The owner's son—who had stared at her from the beginning as if she were less than human—had deliberately bumped into her while she was pulling the gallon.
But no one ever listened to explanations from someone like her.
Laughter echoed from upstairs. It belonged to the owner's son, who had been mocking her from above the entire time.
Selina flinched, bowed her head even lower, and limped away.
---
In front of a convenience store, she bought a cheap bandage and a piece of bread. She hadn't eaten since noon. Her stomach twisted painfully, but she endured it.
She cleaned her wounds as best she could, pressing bandages onto her knees and palms. The swelling made her limp.
Sitting on the store's steps, Selina massaged her leg with sunflower oil—the only thing she always carried with her. Her body had been hurt too often to believe in luck anymore.
When the pain eased slightly, she headed to her next job.
But what awaited her was only a single sheet of paper.
"You are no longer needed."
"S–Sir… why was I dismissed?" Her voice was barely audible.
The man gave a thin smile. "You weren't dismissed. This restroom is going to be demolished. There's supposed to be construction. Here's your pay."
Selina accepted the thin envelope. Two jobs—gone on the same day.
She went home briefly, changed her clothes, then went back out—to the eatery where she washed dishes at night. She still had two hours before her shift.
But her mind was in chaos.
She almost got hit by a car.
"Are you blind?!" a man shouted, slamming his car door.
"Ow, my head!" his friend groaned from inside. "Drive properly!"
"Tch. Idiots blocking the road."
Selina straightened quickly, her heart pounding. "I–I'm sorry…"
She lowered her head, not daring to answer back.
Then the man suddenly went silent.
"Oh?" He stepped closer, his gaze stripping her bare. "Selina?"
Her body stiffened.
The man grabbed her shoulder and forced her face upward. His fingers brushed aside her wet bangs.
A pair of "pale blue eyes" was revealed.
"No doubt about it," he sneered. "It's you. Selina Hawthorne."
"You've got the wrong person," Selina said, forcing calm into her trembling voice. "I–I'm not—"
"Hahaha!" He burst out laughing. "Still trying to deny it?"
"Hey, what's taking so long?" his friend called from the car. "Let's go!"
"Wait," the man said. "You guys need to see this."
Two people stepped out—a man and a woman.
The woman scanned Selina from head to toe. "Huh? Just a beggar. What a waste of time."
"Look closely!" The man forced Selina's head up higher. "That blue-eyed monster. You remember, don't you?"
The woman's expression twisted. "Oh my God…" Her lips curved cruelly. "It's her."
"Wasn't she a murderer?" she laughed. "The one who shocked Jordan City? Looks like she's out of prison now."
Spit flew into Selina's face. Chewing gum stuck to her hair.
"After killing someone, you think you can live a normal life?" James mocked. "So what now? Back to being a doctor? Or looking for new victims?"
Selina slapped James's hand away.
Devon immediately shoved her to the ground. "Doctor? James, she's a monster! People like her only know how to kill."
"Hahaha! Since when does a criminal become a doctor? That's hilarious!"
The three of them laughed.
Selina recognized only one of them—James. He had always hated her. He was her younger sibling's friend.
She had only spoken to him once in college. After that, his hatred toward her had appeared without reason.
Selina bit her lip. Her hand slipped into her pocket—finding the small bottle of oil.
She threw it onto the asphalt.
"WHAT—?!"
James slipped as the oil spread beneath his feet. Selina forced herself up, ignoring the scream of pain from her knees.
She ran.
"CHASE HER!"
She darted into a narrow alley, vaulted over a low fence in one swift movement—far too fast for someone supposedly "weak."
Their footsteps faded.
"Damn it… she's fast."
Hidden in the darkness, Selina leaned against the wall. Her hands trembled—not from fear, but because she had almost gone back.
Her blue eyes stared blankly ahead.
Monster.
Murderer.
Iknew this day would come. I knew something like this was unavoidable. But I never imagined the first person to see me like this would be James.
What if he tells Alisya and her family?
Selina rubbed her right hand. Pain flared again, but she forced herself to walk home through dark, deserted alleys.
She didn't linger. After changing clothes, she went straight to the eatery. She should have rested, but since James and his friends were still roaming around, she took a longer route.
As usual, Selina headed to the back and began washing dishes. Dirty plates and bowls came endlessly.
"Selina, you're late today. That's rare," someone remarked.
"I–I missed the bus and had to run from the front stop," Selina lied.
"Here," Brayen said, handing her a plastic bag. "I saved one for you. I made it myself. Everyone else already got theirs—only you left."
Selina accepted it. Brayen worked in the kitchen. He often checked on her, sometimes giving her snacks or simply asking how she was.
"Brayen!"
Someone called out. Their gaze flicked from Selina to the plastic bag in her hand.
That person quickly pulled Brayen away and whispered—though loud enough to be heard.
"Don't get too close to her."
Brayen shook off the grip. "Why?"
"Haven't you heard? She's been to prison."
Selina turned her face away, pretending not to hear.
"Enough," Brayen said quietly.
"I'm not lying. She's an ex-con. Everyone just found out!"
"Oh—Selina, I need to go back to the kitchen. Eat the cake quickly before it gets cold," Brayen said hurriedly, pulling Jesline away.
"Jesline, don't talk nonsense!"
"I'm just being honest. Everyone's talking about it!"
Selina clenched the bag tightly.
Will I still be allowed to work here?
She had already lost everything. Couldn't she win just once—have something she wanted?
This job was her only way to survive. Would even that be taken from her?
Why… why did this secret begin to unravel so openly after meeting James?
Pain surged through her body again—always arriving together with these thoughts.
Until—
Crash!
A glass plate shattered in her hands.
"What do I do?!" Selina cried in panic.
Lost in her thoughts, she had caused damage.
"What happened?"
She hurriedly picked up the shards, not realizing her hands were bleeding.
"S–Sir, my hands slipped and the plate broke. P–please don't fire me."
She bit her lip hard. "I'm really sorry. I'll clean it up right away."
The owner stared at her bleeding hands.
"You should treat that first," he said. "I'll handle this. You don't need to clean it. Sit over there."
He stopped her hand as she tried to pick up the shards again.
"You can treat it yourself, right? There's a first-aid kit. If you have trouble wrapping it, I'll help."
"Sir, I'm fine. Let me—"
"No," he cut her off firmly. "If you don't sit down now, I really *will* fire you."
Selina had no choice. She sat awkwardly and opened the kit.
She felt deeply guilty—breaking a plate and letting Mr. Daril clean it up.
When she finished, she approached him carefully, but Daril spoke first.
"It's done," he said without looking at her, nodding lightly. "You should go home. You don't look well today."
"N–No, sir. I'm fine."
Daril chuckled softly. Since Selina's arrival, he had noticed her pallor, her trembling hands, her limp, the bandages.
"Mr. Daril… are you firing me?" Selina swallowed hard, trembling. "Can I still work here? I'll pay for the broken bowls and plates from my salary—no, you don't need to pay me for a month."
Daril laughed gently, his deep voice surprisingly warm.
"I'm visiting my family in the village," he said. "Since you don't look well, it's fine for you to leave early. We're closing soon anyway." Then he added, "And tomorrow, we're off for two days."
Selina stayed silent, her head lowered.
Daril took a bag of leftover food from the day.
"Don't forget to eat."
Selina flinched as he placed it into her hands.
Doesn't he know… that I'm not a good person?
"Thank you," Selina whispered.
---
Alaric leaned back against the sofa and opened the black-covered file on the table.
"So it's finished," he murmured.
As he read through the special folder, his expression slowly changed—shock growing with every page.
"My God… it's really her."