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Bernadette (POV)
I walked through the gate, my legs heavy with exhaustion after the hectic day I'd just had — and worst of all, that crazy encounter with some man. He looked like a mafia don fresh off a kill. That face... like someone who dared him had just paid the price.
The whole thing had shaken me so much, I almost peed on myself.
I walked into the house feeling a little upset that the door was left opened. It was Camille's fault anyway. It was a habit for her to go through a door and leave it opened — something that got on my nerves.
I made my way to her room. She was sitting comfortably on her bed with her eyes shut, pretending to sleep.
"Stop that, Lys. You're terrible at pranks," I said, yanking her hands. She burst into laughter. She always liked it when I called her by her middle name — Lys. Why? Personal reasons, probably.
"C'mon, Bernie," she pouted. "So? How was the interview? Did you see him?"
She threw her questions like darts, already rummaging through the bag of goodies I'd bought from the supermarket on my way back. As if the answers were hiding in the snacks.
I tossed the brown envelope in my hand onto the bed and sighed deeply.
"First off, you left the door open again, Camille," I said with a faint smile.
"Oh! I totally forgot. I'm so sorry. Let me go—" she started to get up.
"Never mind. I've locked it already," I grinned.
Hmm... You look like you've had a rough day, Bernie." Camille took my hands gently, her eyes filled with concern.
We'd been friends since childhood. She was like family. It was unfortunate that she'd had to leave her dad's house and come to stay with me — too many issues there. But I was glad to have her. This little house, a gift from my mum on my eighteenth birthday, had never felt more alive since she moved in.
"Oh Lys… this job thing is really dragging. I didn't get to meet Dr. Renaud again. They said he's out of town—and worse, that we never had an appointment." I collapsed onto the bed in frustration.
"Hmm... I have a strong feeling Dr. Renaud has no clue you've been trying to reach him," Camille said, pacing the room like some private investigator. "I think they're purposely keeping your messages from him."
"Why would they do that?" I asked, trying to wrap my head around it.
"Don't tell me you've forgotten!"
"Then remind me — will you?" I raised a brow.
"Because you were praised by Dr. Renaud during your internship! Don't you remember how your work helped push the company to the top in its field—just within a year? I mean, why wouldn't they be jealous?"
"Oh..." I rubbed my chin slowly.
It wasn't like what she said made full sense to me, but I had to act like it did. I mean, yes, my skills had helped the company grow, and everyone had benefited from it one way or another. So why envy me? Still, the thought lingered.
Camille grabbed her phone which was lying beside me on the bed. She has just received a notification from god knows where. That was another issue I had with her — she could drop out of a conversation mid-sentence if her phone buzzed.
"Oh my gosh," she said suddenly, her voice heavy.
"What is it?" I sat up quickly.
"I just saw something... Dr. Wei passed away."
"Dr. Lian Wei?" I asked in shock. She nodded slowly.
"You know him?"
"How could I not? He was one of the best craniofacial and reconstructive surgeons out there. He worked on my mom after her car accident, remember?"
"Do they say how he died?" I leaned in, trying to peek at her phone, though it was impossible with her standing.
"Uhh... Looks like suicide. Yeah. It says he killed himself." Her voice trembled slightly as she looked at me, eyes wide and glinting with disbelief.
"He didn't seem like the type," I whispered. "Sure, he was getting older, but he still had so much ahead of him. But I guess... we never really know."
Camille's gaze dropped back to her screen, her lips curling into that mischievous, childish smile I knew all too well.
"I have an idea. Why don't you go look for a job at Dion Biotics?" she blurted.
"Huh? How does that even connect to what we were talking about? And what's Dion Biotics, anyway?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"I thought you said you knew Dr. Wei? That's where he worked before he passed away," she said, resting her hands on her hips.
"Seriously?" I let out an uneasy laugh.
"Who knows, maybe his job was so hard he killed himself. Wait — are you trying to get me killed?" I added with a mock-serious face.
"C'mon, Bernie. All jokes aside, this is actually an opportunity for you. And it's not like I don't know about Dion Biotics—after all, my dad is one of the board members."
"Your dad?" I jumped to my feet, surprised. "And I've been job-hunting all this time without knowing that?"
But as soon as the words left my mouth, I saw it — that flicker in Camille's eyes, like a shadow crossing the sun. Her smile faltered, and she looked away.
I instantly regretted it.
Right. I had promised never to bring him up again. Camille had gone through hell after her parents divorced. She'd stayed with her dad, thinking it was the better option, but what followed was years of pain she rarely spoke about — emotional wounds and, worse, the kind of scars no one should ever carry.
The way he'd twisted her self-worth, the way he made her feel unsafe even in her own home. It was why she left. Why she never called him "Dad" anymore. But today, she had let it slip — and I knew that was her way of trying to help me, despite everything.
"I'm sorry," I said gently, my voice barely above a whisper.
She didn't say anything. Just gave me a small nod.
"In fact, let's rule that place out," I added quickly. "I'll keep trying my luck at Jay Chemicals."
"No, Bernie," Camille said firmly. "Those people clearly aren't going to let you work there, and I know how much this dream means to you. You should give Dion a try. Maybe... something will work out."
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her.
"Thanks, Lys... I don't know what I'd do without you." I smiled as she hugged me tightly in return.
"And I don't know what we'd do without our favorite chocolate," she laughed mischievously. "Lemme go grab two bars for us." She dashed out of the room.
I sank back on the bed, my arms tucked under my head as I stared at the ceiling. A part of me wanted to pack my bags, call Mom, and hop on the next flight to Milan. Modeling wasn't bad. In fact, I had missed the rush of the runway, the calm of the dressing room before a show, the way Mom would wink from the front row, proud and radiant. But science had always been my thing. I wanted to wear the lab coat, not designer silk. I wanted to help people, not just pose for a camera. Still... I couldn't help but wonder if I was just being stubborn.
Camille walked in, holding out a bar of chocolate like a peace treaty. I took it, smiling.
"Bernie," she said softly, "you've always chased your dreams harder than anyone I know. Don't let a few shut doors make you forget who you are."
I looked at her and remembered the countless times we'd done this — sharing chocolate on hard days, celebrating wins, crying through heartbreaks. Camille had her own demons to fight, yet she still made space for me.
"Thanks, Lys," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
"Always," she said, bumping her shoulder against mine.
And just like that, the weight in my chest lifted a little.