Part 3The Stream Predicted My Death

The next morning.

I didn't wait for Roman to wake me. I was already up, dressed, and packed.

Aside from Roman and me, our squad had two others.

Coach, a normal human like me, though far more useful.

And Jax, a straggler we picked up who possessed electro-kinesis.

Seeing me up so early, helping organize supplies, Coach’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

I didn't need telepathy to know what he was thinking.

I ignored his shock and helped him load the gear.

My peripheral vision, however, kept drifting to Roman.

He was discussing the route with Jax.

His profile was cold, sharp. He didn't look at me.

The Stream floated by on cue:

[Oh? Is the villainess trying the 'independent woman' arc?]

[LMAO, does she think this changes the ending?]

[In the original book, she starts acting sensible around now, but the male lead is already sick of her.]

[Just wait. Once he realizes she’s stopped clinging to him, he’ll be relieved.]

I lowered my eyes, my chest aching with a dull throb.

Would Roman... be relieved?

I didn't know.

But every time I looked at him, the text reminded me of my gruesome fate.

So, I avoided him.

Throughout the day, I could feel the confusion radiating from Jax and Coach.

I smiled bitterly to myself.

Can you blame them?

Usually, on the road, I’d be demanding snacks, water, complaining that my butt hurt from the car seat.

I was a constant source of noise.

But today, we drove for hours.

I didn't make a sound.

I even offered to drive.

Roman rejected the offer.

So I sat obediently in the back, shrinking myself down, lowering my presence.

If I stop being a burden... maybe I won't be hated.

If I’m quiet, maybe when the danger comes...

Maybe they won't just watch me die.