A Night In March

A Chance Encounter

The following day, Cynthia and Nanna went shopping as they had planned. "I've seen so many beautiful things today, I honestly don't know which one I like the most," Nanna said as they gathered the shopping bags they had accumulated.

Cynthia looked around and suddenly snapped her fingers. "You know what? Wait for me. I just remembered a handbag I wanted to buy." She set her bags down and pointed toward one of the boutiques.

Nanna groaned dramatically ."Why didn't you buy it earlier?"

"I got distracted. Please wait for me." Nanna rolled her eyes before smiling.

"Fine. But don't take forever."

"I won't." Cynthia hurried off while Nanna began arranging their shopping bags.

Earlier, Nanna had secretly bought a birthday gift for Cynthia, whose nineteenth birthday was only a few days away. Not wanting Cynthia to discover it, she carried their bags to the car before quietly making her way back to a nearby gift shop to buy wrapping paper.

Meanwhile, Cynthia walked straight to the boutique. "Thank God nobody bought it," she muttered with relief as she picked up the handbag she had been eyeing.

She looked around until she spotted a sales attendant. "Excuse me, could you package this bag for me, please?" As she turned around, she walked straight into someone.

"Oh... sorry." Then she looked up.

"Miss Cynthia, right?" the young man asked with a friendly smile. "It's nice to see you again. How have you been?"

Cynthia took a small step back and narrowed her eyes, pretending not to recognize him.

"And... who exactly are you supposed to be?"

The young man blinked "We're really doing this?" he asked with a laugh. "You seriously don't remember me? Jack... Jackson?"

Cynthia continued staring at him with a blank expression.

"Seriously?"

"Oh..." she said at last. "It's you again." .She folded her arms.

"What are you doing here? I mean... you don't exactly look rich enough to shop in a place like this."

Jack chuckled "Maybe. But you don't know me well enough to judge the size of my wallet, missy." A smug grin spread across his face.

Cynthia smirked "True... but I do know you're a drunkard."

The smile instantly disappeared from Jack's face "Excuse me?" he asked, genuinely confused.

Cynthia gave a small shrug "You know what? Forget it. Nice seeing you again... after that little stunt where you publicly embarrassed me."

She brushed past him and walked away without another glance. Jack remained rooted to the spot, watching her disappear into the crowd.

"What on earth is that brat talking about?" he muttered to himself, completely bewildered.

After running into Cynthia at the shopping mall, Jack bought what he had come for and headed back. Back to the house, he refused to call it a home because it had never felt like one. As soon as he stepped inside, he was greeted by darkness. Thick drapes shut out the evening light, leaving the living room dim and lifeless.

"So... you finally decided to come home." The voice behind him made him stop in his tracks.

Jack sighed before turning around "Good evening, Dad."

Without waiting for a response, he tossed his shopping bag onto a nearby chair. "I asked you a question, Jack," Granger said coldly, ignoring the greeting. "Where have you been?"

"School. Where else would I be?"

Granger's eyes narrowed "Doing what exactly?"

"A class project." Jack shrugged carelessly. "You know... the sort of things students do at school."

"So you've been working on one class project for A year, one month, and a half?"

A wicked smile spread across Granger's face.

Jack forced a laugh "It was a very big project."

"Shut up, Jack!" Granger thundered. "Do you think I'm a fool?"

Jack said nothing, instead, he glanced around the room. Empty liquor bottles littered the floor. Papers were scattered across the coffee table and sofa, making the once elegant living room look like a disaster zone.

"What happened here?" Jack asked, unable to hide his disgust. Granger remained silent.

Jack walked over to the table and picked up one of the loose sheets, his eyes scanned the page. The same signature had been written over and over again, each attempt trying to imitate the original perfectly. His jaw tightened, Jack knew exactly what it was. Forgery!

It wasn't surprising. Granger was wealthy, powerful, and deeply connected to the criminal underworld. d**g trafficking, fraud, bribery—there was little he wouldn't do for money. He had been arrested more than once, yet somehow always walked free. Justice rarely reached men like him.

Jack slowly lowered the paper before looking directly at his father.

"You're relentless, aren't you?" he said through clenched teeth. "So... whose signature are you stealing this time?"

Granger's expression darkened.

"Why did you touch that?" he barked as he snatched the paper from Jack's hand. "You disappear for God knows where, then come into my house and start touching things that don't belong to you!"

Jack laughed bitterly "That signature doesn't belong to you either. You stole it." Granger stormed toward him.

"And who are you to speak to me like that?" he shouted. "I raised you... I took care of you like my own son—" He froze. The words hung heavily between them.

Jack's eyes widened "Like... your own son?"

Neither of them moved.

"What do you mean by that?" Jack asked quietly.

Granger looked away "You heard me wrong."

"No." Jack took a step closer. "I heard you perfectly. You said you took care of me like your own son."

"It was a slip of the tongue," Granger snapped. "Forget it."

"But—"

"I said forget it!" Without another word, Granger turned and strode out of the room.

"Dad!" Jack hurried after him.

"Wait!" The bedroom door slammed shut before he could reach it. Jack stood frozen in the hallway, staring at the closed door. For the first time in his life, he wondered if the man who raised him had been lying to him all along.

Back at the Andrews' mansion, a visitor was waiting in the living room. The moment Anna informed Cynthia, she reluctantly came downstairs, wearing an expression that made it obvious she would rather be anywhere else.

"Ah, Cynthia, dear!" Andrew called cheerfully. "Come. We've been waiting for you."

Cynthia's eyes settled on the young man sitting opposite her father. Stephen. He was the son of one of Andrew's business partners. They had known each other for years, yet Cynthia could never understand why he kept visiting—or why her father always insisted she entertain him.

"Well, Dad, I'm here," she said flatly before turning to him. "Hi, Stephen."

"Hi, Cynthia." Stephen smiled shyly. "Long time no see." A faint blush crept onto his face.

It was painfully obvious to everyone that Stephen had feelings for Cynthia.bEveryone except Cynthia, who either didn't notice... or simply refused to.

"Yes," Andrew said with a satisfied grin. "It's been quite a while since you two have seen each other." He rose from his seat and straightened his jacket "I'll leave you both to catch up."

"But, Dad..." Cynthia protested. "Isn't he here to see you?" She shot her father a pleading look. The last thing she wanted was to sit through another painfully awkward conversation with Stephen.

Andrew laughed "Don't be silly. What would Stephen and I possibly have to talk about? Of course he's here to see you."

Cynthia forced a smile, but inwardly she groaned. Seriously? Is this another one of Dad's attempts to play matchmaker? Forget it. It isn't going to work. Look at him... smiling like that. He irritates me already.

Stephen cleared his throat "So... Cynthia... would you like to sit down?"

She smiled politely—far more politely than she felt "Of course. It is my house, after all." She let out a small laugh to soften how rude it sounded.

Stephen laughed awkwardly as well. To Cynthia, he was the very definition of boring. With his oversized glasses, neatly combed hair, knitted pullover, and plain trousers, he looked more like a quiet university librarian than the son of a wealthy businessman. He was a brilliant law student, everyone said so, but all Cynthia saw was an awkward, painfully ordinary young man who always seemed just a little too eager to impress her.