Part 3Zero Minutes

The gates of the Southside residence were half-open. A carpet of yellow leaves littered the courtyard.

Using the pretext of organizing Chloe’s old belongings, I pushed open the front door. Cheerful children’s songs were playing softly in the living room.

“Riley, you’re finally here.” Chloe, who was wearing a silk lounge suit, walked out of the open-plan kitchen with two cups of tea and said, “I’ve waited seven years for this day.”

Her face, which bore a seventy percent resemblance to my own, wore a gentle smile. There was no trace of the weathered hardships of someone who had cheated death—only the glow of someone who had been pampered and pampered well for a long time.

“Saying my name sure rolled off your tongue easily enough.”

I didn’t take the tea she offered. Instead, my gaze swept over the children’s toys scattered across the sofa.

At that moment, Julian walked down from the study on the second floor with a file in his hand.

“Riley, you’re too emotional to be out and about today. Why didn’t you just stay in according to the schedule?”

He walked over to Chloe and naturally took the teacup from her hand, setting it down on the coffee table.

“Chloe has just completed her psychosocial rehabilitation program and needs a stable environment.”

I looked at his self-evident, protective stance and found it absurd. “A stable environment?”

I pointed at the villa—a house I had helped design and poured half my own money into—and continued, “Hiding someone who faked her death for seven years right inside my home, and having your child with her—is this what you call stability?”

Julian’s brow furrowed slightly. “Riley, your choice of words is too harsh. The plane crash seven years ago gave Chloe severe PTSD. She couldn’t face her past relationships, so I simply provided her with a medically necessary sanctuary.”

At precisely the right moment, Chloe shrank back behind Julian, her eyes turning slightly red. “Riley, don’t blame Julian. I begged him not to tell you. I was afraid my existence would disrupt your lives.”

With that, she picked up Julian’s phone from the coffee table.

“Look, Julian’s schedule is packed every day. His allocated quality time for you is so much more than the time he gives me.”

She tapped open the cloud calendar and turned the screen toward me. It recorded my daily emotions and sleep duration. Even the frequency of my temper tantrums had been turned into a line graph.

“Julian says you’re very sensitive, Riley, and that it needs to be precisely maintained using data.” Chloe covered her mouth and let out a light chuckle. “Riley, you really live life like a robot.”

In their eyes, my privacy, my pain, and my marriage were just a set of data points to be pulled up and laughed at whenever they pleased.

“Put the phone down.” Julian gave a gentle reminder, though he didn’t bother to snatch the phone back from her hand. Chloe, don’t make fun of Riley’s psychological data. That doesn’t conform to behavioral norms during recovery.”

He then looked back at me, his gaze understanding. “Riley, she hasn’t had any contact with the outside world all these years, so her emotional maturity is stunted. As her sister, you should be kinder to her.”

Just then, the butler walked in through the side door carrying a newly arrived package.

“Sir, Ma’am, these are the early childhood educational materials Miss Hudson ordered.” The butler looked at the three of us, and an envious smile spread across his face. “Mr. Stewart really takes excellent care of the two sisters. He runs the household so smoothly. Even I’m impressed.”

Seeing the oblivious look on the housekeeper’s face, I suddenly felt that even talking back had lost all meaning. In everyone’s eyes, Julian was a flawless controller, and I was merely an occasionally glitching part within his perfect system.

Chloe pretended her hand slipped and knocked over the hot tea on the coffee table. The tea splashed onto me, staining the hem of my trench coat.

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry, Riley. I’m just so clumsy.”

Julian immediately pulled Chloe away to make sure she hadn’t been scalded. Then, he pulled out a few tissues and handed them to me.

“Riley, go and clean yourself up in the restroom. Because of this unexpected incident, I’ll compensate you with thirty minutes of exclusive quality time. I’ll readjust tonight’s schedule.”

I didn’t take the tissues, leaving the tea to soak into the expensive fabric.

“Julian, do you love me?” I looked straight into his eyes and asked a question I had never doubted once in the past seven years.

He froze, seemingly uncomfortable with an out-of-the-plan question. “Riley, love is an abstract concept. It can’t be quantified. But I’ve given you more time than I have with anyone else. That’s an objective fact.”

I laughed until tears were almost spilling from my eyes. “Fine. Thank you for your generosity, then.”

After that, I made my way toward the front door, not sparing either of them another glance.

“Riley, are you leaving already? Aren’t you going to stay for lunch?” Chloe called out sweetly from behind me.

“No thanks. My schedule doesn’t include any plans for sharing a meal with the dead.”