Lyriana sat across from me, her eyes fixed on my face, shimmering with unshed tears.
"Tell me," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Did you suffer?"
I paused, holding my glass of water. I looked at her—really looked at her—and realized she didn't want a lie. But she probably couldn't handle the whole truth either.
"Honestly? Not much."
I didn't try to sell fake suffering. I didn't need pity points.
I took a sip of water and set the glass down.
"When the letter arrived, I thought I was done for," I admitted. "I had no money. No dorm. But then I looked around my room. It was filled with… stuff. Golden lamps, jeweled watches, ornaments I never looked at twice. So, I packed them all up and sold them. Turns out, your son had expensive taste. They sold for quite a high price."
Lyriana blinked, her brow furrowing slightly.
"You sold them all? Even… the presents I sent you?"
I froze.
'Presents?'
