Love Beyond Time

The World Anna Knew

Chapter Two

The city had a rhythm of its own, a pulse that never seemed to rest. From the balcony of her bedroom, Anna often leaned against the glass railing, watching the skyline glitter under the night sky. Skyscrapers glowed like lanterns, streets below swarmed with headlights, and somewhere far off she could hear the faint sound of traffic horns blending with the hum of life. For Anna, this was normal—the world she had been born into, the life she had always known.

Her room reflected that same privilege. It stretched wider than most apartments, walls lined with shelves overflowing with storybooks, sketchpads, and novels her mother imported from abroad. Plush toys filled her bed, each one carefully arranged as if they belonged to a royal court. There was the big white teddy bear her father had bought her on her eighth birthday, the elegant giraffe her mother brought from South Africa, and a small brown bear that held the most meaning of all—Kelvin had won it for her at a fair when they were younger. That little bear was the only one she kept closest to her pillow, and sometimes, when the nights felt too long, she whispered secrets to it as if it could carry them safely away.

Her mornings followed a pattern almost too predictable. The low whirr of the espresso machine echoed from the kitchen, the footsteps of maids polished the marble floors, and the chauffeur’s voice carried faintly as he checked the car parked outside. By the time Anna walked down the wide staircase, her father was already seated at the long glass dining table with his tablet in hand, eyes locked on market reports. Her mother scrolled through her phone, half-listening to updates from her charity group.

Kelvin was usually the one who made breakfast bearable. His family often joined them before school, and his quiet, steady presence softened the stiffness of the room. He sat across from Anna, sometimes nudging strawberries from his plate to hers when her parents weren’t watching.

“Don’t play with your food,” he teased once, noticing how she had pressed her pancakes into odd shapes.

She arched a brow. “Don’t act like my dad.”

He smirked, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. “Fine, but eat before you starve.”

Their small exchanges were ordinary, yet to Anna they meant more than anyone could guess. In a world where appearances meant everything, Kelvin always reminded her she was seen for who she really was.

School was no less polished. Their academy, nestled in the heart of the city, was the kind where tuition could pay someone’s annual income. Uniforms were tailored, shoes polished, and every student carried the quiet arrogance of wealth. For Anna, the sprawling campus was both a dream and a cage. She loved the art studios where she could sketch for hours, the music halls where she sometimes listened to students play, but she despised the whispers that followed her name. Some of her classmates liked to mock her for being spoiled, claiming she didn’t know anything about “real life.” Others expected perfection from her simply because she was Richard Peter’s daughter.

Kelvin always stood between her and the world’s cruelty. If anyone dared mock her, his glare was enough to silence them. If she struggled with math, he explained it patiently until the numbers finally made sense. During recess, they claimed a bench beneath the jacaranda tree where purple blossoms often rained down like confetti. Anna filled her sketchbook with drawings while Kelvin flipped through his sports magazines. Sometimes she caught him peeking at her sketches with quiet admiration.

“You’re really good,” he said once, pointing to a drawing of their school.

She shrugged, trying not to smile too much. “It’s just practice.”

But deep down, his words sank into her heart like sunlight warming her skin.

Evenings often meant galas, dinners, and glittering parties. The Peters and Lewises were pillars of society, and their names appeared in business journals as much as they did in lifestyle magazines. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, men in tailored suits discussed investments, women floated across the floor in gowns that shimmered like water. To Anna, it was a dazzling world—yet exhausting.

She and Kelvin found ways to escape. More often than not, they slipped onto a balcony, laughing quietly as the adults drowned in their own conversations. They leaned on the railing, watching the city lights spread endlessly beneath them.

“Do you think they even notice we’re gone?” Anna asked one night.

Kelvin glanced at her, thoughtful. “I think they trust us to be fine. Maybe that’s enough.”

She smiled, though something about his tone made her chest ache.

But as golden as Anna’s world seemed, she had begun to notice the cracks. Her father’s laughter was not as effortless anymore; his shoulders drooped when he thought no one was watching. Her mother often sounded sharp behind closed doors, their voices hushed yet tense. Anna caught fragments of arguments, words like “risk,” “debt,” and “delay.” She didn’t understand them fully, but she understood the fear in her mother’s tone.

One night, unable to sleep, she wandered the hallway and heard her parents’ voices from the study. Peeking through the cracked door, she saw her father bent over his laptop, his face pale in the glow of the screen. Her mother stood stiff behind him, arms folded.

“This can’t go on, Marcus,” her mother hissed. “You’re drowning us. The projects are too much, the debts are too high.”

“Enough, Catherine,” her father muttered, his voice low and tired. “I’ll fix it. I just need time.”

“Time? Or another miracle?”

Anna’s stomach knotted. She didn’t fully understand, but the fear in her mother’s words seeped into her heart. Quietly, she slipped back to her room, clutching her teddy bear to her chest. For the first time, her glittering home felt fragile.

Through it all, Kelvin remained her anchor. He noticed when she was unusually quiet one afternoon beneath the jacaranda tree.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

She hesitated, then whispered, “Do you think our parents pretend to be happy sometimes?”

Kelvin blinked, caught off guard. After a pause, he nodded slowly. “Maybe. But it doesn’t mean they don’t care about us.”

Anna lowered her gaze. “What if everything changes?”

His voice was steady, the kind that always reassured her. “Then we’ll face it together. I promise.”

And she believed him.

That summer felt endless, filled with memories she desperately wanted to keep forever. They chased waves at the beach until their clothes clung to their skin. They spent afternoons beneath the old oak tree in her garden, telling stories and sharing secrets. Evenings were spent in the city at rooftop restaurants where fireworks painted the sky.

Anna drew everything she could—Kelvin’s laughter, the wide stretch of ocean, the tree branches sheltering them, the glow of the skyline. She filled sketchbook after sketchbook, as though her drawings could somehow trap time.

But no matter how much she drew, she couldn’t stop what was coming.

One evening, she overheard a conversation between her father and Mr. Lewis. Their voices were low, but the weight in them made Anna’s skin prickle.

“You need to come clean, Marcus,” Mr. Lewis said firmly. “The banks are pulling out. Investors are restless. Hiding it will only make things worse.”

Her father’s reply was hoarse. “I can’t. Not yet. If Catherine knew the full truth… if Anna found out… it would destroy them.”

Anna froze in the hallway, her hands trembling against the wall. She didn’t know the details, but she knew enough. Something was wrong, something bigger than she could grasp.

That night, she lay in bed whispering into the dark, her teddy bear pressed tightly against her.

“Please don’t let anything change. Please keep my family safe. Please don’t let Kelvin ever leave.”

But the city outside her window kept glowing, cold and indifferent to her prayers.

The world Anna knew was one of laughter, of privilege, of promises whispered under jacaranda trees. But shadows were already creeping into the golden edges of her life, and deep inside, she felt the shift. Something was coming. Something that would change everything.