He didn’t say anything else, just lifted the curtain and went out.

After finishing a cigarette, Eric Bennett checked the time. Big Mike had been lying there for almost twenty minutes. Normally, if someone just fainted, they’d wake up in a few minutes.

He walked over, pushed open the door to the small room, and looked inside. Big Mike still hadn’t woken up, lying there with his eyes closed, in the same position as before.

“Hey,” Eric Bennett went over and gave him a push, “Don’t die here on me.”

Big Mike still didn’t move.

Eric Bennett stared at him for a while.

Big Mike’s face was a bit dirty, but he was decent-looking. The slightly drooping corners of his eyes made him look pretty cocky.

From his own perspective—since he rarely found anyone pleasing to the eye—he had to admit the guy was handsome. But from the first time they met yesterday, he hadn’t liked this person’s prickly vibe. Even though the thorns were subtle, he could still feel them.

After staring for a few minutes, he lifted the blanket and reached into Big Mike’s pocket, pulling out a wallet. The ID card and a few membership cards were tucked together.

Brian Carter.

He put the wallet back, leaned close to Big Mike’s ear, and shouted, “Hey!”

“Mm.” Big Mike finally stirred, letting out a low grunt that sounded full of annoyance.

Eric Bennett kicked the side of the bed, then turned and left.

Brian Carter had no idea what was wrong with him.

When he opened his eyes, it was like he’d lost his memory—who am I, where am I.

It took a while before he remembered the last thing: a filthy floor rushing up to meet him, covered in snow trampled into mud.

He actually fainted? That’s a first.

He sat up, lifted the blanket off himself, and when he looked down at his mud-covered clothes, he quickly pulled the blanket up to check. There were a few muddy spots, but no matter how much he patted at them, the mud wouldn’t come off.

He was just thinking about finding some water to wash up when he suddenly snapped back to his senses.

Who am I? Brian Carter.

Where am I? No idea.

A small room, pretty tidy, much cleaner than the one David Thompson gave him. He tossed the blanket aside and went to open the door.

When he saw the three rows of shelves outside, Brian Carter finally realized he was still in Eric Bennett’s family store.

“You’re awake, huh.” Eric Bennett glanced at him from the lounge chair next to the cashier counter, then went back to playing on his phone.

“Yeah,” Brian Carter patted the dried mud on his clothes, “thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Eric Bennett stared at his phone, “mainly, I brought you in so there wouldn’t be any trouble.”

“Oh,” Brian Carter looked back at the small room, “that blanket… it’s dirty now.”

“There’s a sink in the back,” Eric Bennett said, “go wash it.”

“What?” Brian Carter froze, feeling a bit like he wanted to get angry, but couldn’t find a good reason—after all, Eric Bennett’s logic was sound.

“If you don’t want to wash it, why ask.” Eric Bennett finally looked up from his phone and met his eyes.

Brian Carter didn’t say anything, just stared back at him.

He’d actually been grateful that Eric Bennett brought him inside, but Eric Bennett’s attitude now made it hard to feel thankful. The only reason he wasn’t snapping was because he still felt off from fainting.

After a while, Eric Bennett lowered his head and went back to his phone.

He turned and walked out.

The sun outside was nice, the only warmth in the northern wind, but it didn’t help much—it was still cold.

His head hurt badly. Brian Carter took a ski hat out of his pocket and put it on, then pulled up the hood of his jacket. He checked the time; between fainting and sleeping, he’d only lost about half an hour—not too much time wasted.

Though he didn’t really know what he had to do anyway.

He stood by the road, looked both ways, and finally decided to keep wandering for a bit. After finding the alley between two streets, he’d head back.

He didn’t really want to go back and listen to David Thompson’s snoring, but he needed to change clothes.

Walking on the muddy snow, he suddenly felt a bit lonely.

He’d spent plenty of days like this, wandering outside, sometimes for days without going home, but he’d never felt this kind of loneliness before.

He didn’t know why.

Maybe it was the intense sense of abandonment and exile, maybe it was this strange and rundown environment, maybe it was because he had no friends around, or maybe… it was just because he was sick.

His phone chimed. Brian Carter took it out and saw a message from Grace Foster.

—I regret it.

He sighed and replied.

—A real man always keeps his word.

Grace Foster didn’t reply again. Who knew if he was angry, embarrassed, or just holding it in, waiting for the right moment to explode again.

He put his phone back in his pocket and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He hadn’t noticed before, but now his nose really hurt—probably from hitting the ground when he fell.

Tsk.

He carefully pinched his nose from the bridge to the tip, making sure nothing was broken, then put his hand back in his pocket.

He walked a few steps forward and saw a tiny alley up ahead—probably the one he was looking for.

Before he could look away, a green head shot out from the alley and zoomed past like the wind.

When Brian Carter realized the green head belonged to Ashley Bennett on her skateboard, she had already whizzed by so fast he couldn’t even see her face clearly.