"Well?" Lenox said. "Aren't you going to give me an answer?"
"What answer are you expecting?" Matthew replied, his eyes fixed on Lenox. The man just told him that Catherine was going to start working part time tomorrow because of her mother's surgery and that the money from the allowance list could really help her.
Matthew watched him carefully, half-expecting to see the ghost he'd seen before. He remembered it clearly—just before the incident with Adam. But since then, nothing. Not at the clinic. Not during class. The ghost hadn't appeared again.
He couldn't help but wonder if he had accidentally absorbed that ghost during the chaos and that was the reason why he somehow felt energetic that morning and the ghost had disappeared.
Once he was sure it wasn't there, Matthew shifted his gaze to the rectangular pool nearby.
"You did it, didn't you?" Lenox said. "You're the one who removed Catherine's name from the list."
"No. I didn't," Matthew feigned ignorance.
"Matthew, will you stop being childish? What you're doing is hurting Catherine's chances of having a good high school life. Without that money—"
"Why does that concern me?" Matthew asked. "It's not we're close or something."
After dinner and asking the driver to take Teddy home, he stayed by the pool, hoping he might absorb more ghosts. But now that he felt full, they were gone again. That's when Lenox showed up, bothering him with more pointless talk.
"Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?" Lenox asked, his hands shoved into his pockets. "Don't you care about Catherine at all? I just told you, she's going to start working part time. Do you really want her to suffer?"
Suffer? Matthew snorted, he didn't look at him. "What does her suffering have to do with me? I don't like Catherine anymore. So stop bringing her up."
Lenox gritted his teeth. "What's wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me?" Matthew scoffed. "She clearly rejected me. Why should I keep chasing her around like some damn servant?"
Lenox pressed his lips together. "It's normal. Disagreements like that happen. Besides, that was a misunderstanding."
"I'm young," Matthew said. "I'm rich. Why should I waste my time on someone useless like her because of a misunderstanding? Am I dumb or something?"
That shut Lenox up. He didn't speak right away.
Matthew turned to him. "Why do you care so much? Why are you so desperate for me to keep focusing on Catherine?"
Lenox hesitated. "I just… I want you to be happy."
Matthew snorted and didn't reply.
Lenox's expression shifted. He looked more annoyed. "I know you like her. That's why I'm trying to help. I want you two to be together."
"I don't like her anymore," Matthew said flatly. "And if you bring this up again, I'll ask the board to expel her from Lindberg University."
Lenox froze. His eyes widened. "You're serious?"
Matthew smirked. "I don't care. I just want that woman out of my life."
Lenox glared at Matthew, who was still lounging by the pool, not even looking in his direction. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself. After a pause, he turned away.
"Talk to me once you're done being mad at Catherine," Lenox said. "You really need to learn how to coax a woman."
Without waiting for a response, he walked back into the house and climbed the stairs to his room. Once inside, he locked the door behind him.
He stood still for a moment. Then his fists clenched.
In the next second, he lunged toward the bed and started punching the mattress, over and over again. He didn't hold back. The bed creaked under the weight of each hit, but he kept going.
His shoulders tightened. His breathing turned heavy. When his fists started to ache, he grabbed the pillow and began striking it with both hands. He didn't stop until his arms went numb and his chest heaved.
He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, catching his breath. Then he stood up and walked to the bathroom.
He flipped the light on and stared at himself in the mirror.
"You're fine," he said to his reflection. "Everything's fine. Just follow the plan."
He leaned forward, pressing his hands against the sink.
"But everything's not going fine," he muttered. "Matthew's not supposed to act like this. He's not supposed to hate her."
His jaw tightened as he stared harder at himself.
"She was supposed to keep him distracted," he said. "She was supposed to be enough to keep him busy."
He shook his head. "And now he doesn't care. He doesn't even look at her."
His eyes narrowed. "He wasn't supposed to change."
He hit the sink with the side of his fist.
He stood there, breathing hard.
Then, quietly, he said, "Alright. It's fine. We'll change the plan."
He looked back up at himself. "If Catherine can't control him, then I'll find something else that can."
Lenox gripped the sides of the sink tighter, his knuckles turning white. His eyes stayed locked on the reflection.
"But she's perfect for him," he said to himself. "Sinister. Ambitious. Cold when she needs to be. She's not one of those soft, crying girls. She knows how to twist people around her finger."
He leaned closer to the mirror.
"She's the perfect tool."
He pointed at his reflection. "You didn't choose her because she's pretty. You chose her because she's useful. Because she knows how to manipulate people. She can keep Matthew occupied. Off balance. Focused on her instead of—" He stopped, then clicked his tongue.
"Instead of the real game."
He straightened up and ran a hand through his hair.
"She's supposed to make him desperate. Always chasing. Always confused. That's when he's easiest to control. That's when he listens."
He started pacing the bathroom, muttering.
"She could've pulled him around forever. All she had to do was keep rejecting him just enough to keep him interested. Keep him doubting himself. That's all. That's all she had to do."
He stopped and turned back to the mirror.
"But now he doesn't care."
His lips pressed into a thin line. "And if he doesn't care about her, he'll start paying attention to everything else. He's already moving differently. I can't let this happen."
He pointed at the mirror again.
"Fix it."
He paused, then added, "If Catherine can't keep him in place, then either she changes, or I'll find someone else who will."
He stared at himself.
"Matthew's not allowed to wake up," he said. "Not yet."
Then a sinister smile appeared on his face.
…
"This is it?" Matthew frowned as he read the credit card statement that Cristoff gave him. It was Lenox's credit card statement. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. He doesn't seem to spend much," Cristoff said. "May I know if there is anything specific that you are looking for?"
"Nothing," Matthew said. "You can leave now. I'm going to sleep."
Cristoff nodded. He was about to walk out of Matthew's room when Matthew added,
"And keep this to yourself."
"Of course," Cristoff said.
When he left, Matthew quickly read the statement.
Matthew sat on the edge of his bed, flipping through the credit card statement again. Nothing stood out. School supplies, some food, and one or two small purchases from a bookstore. No music subscriptions. No video streaming services. Not even a digital game. It didn't look like the spending of a teenager. It looked more like someone who was calculating every cent.
He stood and walked toward the fireplace. The printed papers hung loosely from his hand. Without hesitation, he tossed them into the flames. The paper curled fast. He watched until the edges blackened and disappeared into ash.
He had asked Cristoff to print the statement instead of sending it digitally. No copies. No trail.
Matthew stayed there for a moment, arms crossed.
"Too clean," he muttered.
He walked back to the side table, picked up the glass of water he hadn't touched, then set it down again.
"He's been planning this for too long," Matthew said quietly. "He pushed Catherine on me. Let her control everything I did. Made me think I was the one making those choices."
He ran a hand across the back of his neck.
"But why?" he mumbled. "What does he get out of that?"
He paced to the window and stared out at the dim garden lights.
"If he wanted money, he could've just kept playing the loyal friend. I was already handing everything over. The tuition. The gifts. The credit cards. Why control me through her?"
He turned from the window and sat back on the bed.
"There's something I missed," he said, staring at the floor. "This doesn't feel like it's just about money."