chapter 4

A text from Dad lit up my phone. Reading it felt like being dumped in icy water.

"Stop this nonsense. If even easygoing Samwell has lost his patience with you, do you really want to end up alone? He's always been reasonable. Apologize to him, and he won't abandon you.

"I'm busy. I don't ask for your help, just be good and don't make more trouble. We'll talk when I'm back."

I didn't know why my usually doting father would say such things. I could only comfort myself that he must be stressed about something.

But a deep unease settled over me. I thought of someone and tentatively made a call. "I want to go abroad to further my studies."

There were no questions. His reply was brief. "Okay."

My decision was made. I would leave right after taking first place in the design competition. I gripped my pen and designs. Right now, they were my only source of strength.

Pain was like the thorns of a rose, drawing blood before the blossom could fight its way open.

I looked over my finished design with satisfaction—a rose blossoming atop a tangle of thorns. I was sure this piece, titled "Rebirth," would win first place.

Samwell didn't give up. Mike and William came by too, but I turned them all away at my door.

I was determined to cut ties with them for good. Dad was coming back today to watch the design competition, and I planned to have a real talk with him after it was over.

I sat in the audience. Only the first-place winner was left to be announced. I waited eagerly.

"As for first place, the judges are divided into two camps, each supporting a different work.

"After discussion, we've decided to ask both designers to come on stage and explain their design concepts before we make the final decision."

I walked onstage with confident steps. But I never expected the other person climbing the steps would be Lotta.

When I saw her holding the lotus brooch—identical to my design from my past life—pure rage consumed me.

I said, "Lotta, Samwell, this is plagiarism."

The only person who knew about that brooch was Samwell.

The competition venue erupted into momentary chaos. Lotta's face flushed bright red as she loudly defended herself.

She said, "That brooch is my design. My name is Lotta. I wanted my love to bloom like a lotus. That was the concept behind my design."

Samwell also twisted the truth. "I watched Lotta design this brooch step by step. How dare you accuse us of plagiarism without proof? Show some evidence."

He must have seen me tear up the lotus brooch sketches that day, betting I wouldn't use that design again in the competition.

How utterly devoted—using my design to give her a bright future.

I couldn't hold back a cold laugh. "The ruby set in that brooch was my mother's keepsake. It's called ‘Crimson Heart,' and the collection certificate is still at my house.

"Why would your design use my mother's keepsake? You've never even seen it. It's because you copied my design and my design used this stone."

The audience buzzed with discussion. Lotta clearly started to panic.