Part 2Silence is Golden

I met Grandpa Silas—the owner of the estate—and learned the boy's name was Silas.

His parents died in an accident when he was six. The PTSD made him go mute. He hasn't spoken a word since.

"Your grandfather and I were war buddies," Grandpa Silas explained. "We made a pact as a joke back then. Obviously, no one is forcing you. We just wanted you two to be friends."

He looked at my relieved expression and sighed heavily.

"Silas has had a hard life. No dad, no mom, mocked for being mute... I don't know how many years I have left. Jade, if you aren't willing..."

I waved my hand, already considering Silas my property.

"Who said I'm not willing? Don't worry, Grandpa. I'm loyal to a fault. This Hubby is mine!"

Thank god he’s not deaf. If he was like my dad, how would I survive?

Grandpa Silas grinned so hard his dentures almost slipped. We chatted for two hours. It was like soulmates meeting across time.

Eventually, the butler mentioned it was getting dark. I reluctantly went to my guest room.

Right next to Silas's room.

I knocked. He didn't open.

"Hubby? Open up. Don't hide in there being silent. I know you're awake."

"Aren't you curious about your fiancée? Don't you want to know if I like Mom or Dad more? My GPA? If I've ever received a love letter? My favorite anime? If I like sunny days or rain? The color of my pajamas? My thread count?"

He didn't respond for a full hour.

But I talked myself into a great mood and went to sleep satisfied.

Finally! Someone who listens to me for an hour without interrupting!

The next morning, Silas was eating breakfast. I scooted over.

"Yo, you like wontons? Crazy coincidence. There’s a shop near my school that sells the best wontons. The line is insane. I'll take you there. Speaking of lines, there’s a supermarket sale... oh, by the way, what color are your boxers?"

Cough, cough!

The butler, who was smiling like a proud auntie, choked on air.

Silas finally put down his spoon. His exquisite brows furrowed. His entire body screamed: GET AWAY FROM ME.

But after living with my dad’s resting bitch face for 17 years, my skin is thicker than a bank vault.

I turned to the butler. The butler cleared his throat and whispered:

"Black."

Silas shot up from his chair, his eyes filled with disbelief and humiliation.

"Young Master, the Master said to inform Miss Jade of anything she is interested in. Detailed information."

Silas turned cold and stormed off.

I chased him. "We should add each other on Snapchat. Or WeChat. Speaking of WeChat, isn't the 'Press to Hold' voice note feature so aggressive? Hahahaha..."

SLAM.

His bedroom door nearly took my nose off. I rubbed my face and yelled downstairs.

"Uncle Butler! Speaking of boxers, I forgot to ask about the size. Does he—"

The door opened again.

With a face red as a tomato, Silas shoved a phone into my face.

QR code. Add friend.

I grinned. Gotcha.