Chapter 5
Aubree was done with the Wilsons. No way was she sticking around their swanky mansion anymore.
She took a cab back to their place–empty, quiet as a graveyard. In her room, she dragged an old, beat–up suitcase from the corner and stuffed it with everything she’d brought from the orphanage.
Under her bed, she found a bank card.
One grand sat on that card, a goodbye gift from some guy named “Mr. Quinn” when she left the orphanage. She’d told him she didn’t need his help, but he never asked for it back. Now, that money was her way out.
Aubree swapped her Wilson clothes for an old orphanage outfit. Good thing years of barely eating kept her small enough to fit.
With a bitter chuckle, she grabbed her suitcase and headed out, running smack into Wendy Carter, the housekeeper.
Wendy’s gut twisted. “That suitcase? Aubree is bolting?‘
ID and luggage in hand, Aubree caught a bus to Rithol City’s rough edges. The city was could afford. Three hundred bucks got her a tiny room.
Small, but it had the basics. Cozy, even.
Back at the Wilson house, the mood was worlds apart.
pricey as hell–only the sketchy suburbs had rentals she
Carmen swept in like a queen, her usual posse hyping her
- up.
Wendy hesitated, then spilled. “Mr. Wilson, Aubree came by. Grabbed a bag and split. Hasn’t been back.”
“What?!” Mr. Wilson’s face went red, his mind racing. ‘Is she serious?‘
Daxton smirked, arms crossed. “Oh, please. First, she ‘cuts us off,‘ now she’s pulling this runaway stunt? Thinks we’ll beg her to come back? Lame. Bet she’s back in three days, crying.”
“She’ll regret this,” Ronald snapped. “When she drags her sorry butt back, I’ll deal with her.”
Carmen played sweet, batting her eyes. “Should we look for her? What if she’s in trouble?”
Her fake concern made the Wilsons roll their eyes at Aubree even harder. They told Carmen to chill–Aubree wouldn’t die out there.
But Emery’s fists tightened, worry clouding his eyes. ‘No cash, no plan–where could Aubree go?”
In her new place, Aubree was settling in. She grabbed some cheap sheets, made the bed, and felt a spark of something new: freedom.
This cramped room was nothing like the Wilsons‘ palace, but it was hers. No more tiptoeing or stressing about getting the boot.
Next up: school, money, health.
SATs were a year away, and senior year would start with a review of old material.
Aubree knew she could self–study and keep up. She was ready.
Her health, though? Total mess. The Wilsons fussed over Carmen’s heart condition, so they stuck Aubree on a strict diet–tiny meals to keep her weak, so she wouldn’t “stress” Carmen.
Just enough to scrape by, never enough to feel full.
Did they check if she got those meals? Nope. The staff even blocked her from sneaking snacks.
The worst part? Aubree used to spend hours cooking stomach–soothing meals for Daxton, who’d skip food for his experiments. She kept his stomach happy while hers was shot.
Daxton’s fine now, thanks to her. But no one cared about Aubree,
‘I’m done with the Wilsons for good. If I can stack some cash, I’ve got the old–school herbal tricks from my old life to get back in shape,” she muttered.
Aubree stared at her reflection in the dingy mirror. She was skin and bones–thinner than her orphanage days. Her chin was sharp as a knife, and her height? Stuck at 5’3” for years.
“Need a hustle that won’t tank my grades.” Aubree mumbled, frowning. Then it hit her. One killer idea.
In her old life, esports went huge. Games made it to the Olympics, and pro gaming was the place to be. Betting on a team was like hitting the
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Chapter 5
jackpot.
Took Emery’s Apex Squad. They rode that wave, turning into an esports dynasty. Later, they cashed in on their star players, jumping into livestreaming and ruling short–form videos.
Aubree’s plan? Beat them to it. The internet was always a safe bet, no matter the era.
Right now, LOL was in its fall finals. Emery’s Apex Squad was up against GOD’s Fury, a scrappy rookie team of five.
But GOD’s Fury’s mid–laner was out with a hand injury, and they were hunting for a sub.
This was Aubree’s shot.
Win the tournament cash and invest it. Player to team owner? Hell yeah, she could do that.
Fueled by the idea, Aubree dove in.
For two days, she scoped out her new neighborhood. Her routine was tight: mornings at the market for fresh food to fix her health, nights at the internet café grinding LOL, and the rest of the time hitting the books for school.
The night before the semester started, Aubree crashed early, ready to crush her first day.
She had no clue the school’s online forum was buzzing about her.
A wild post about the Wilson family’s “real vs. fake heiress” drama–fighting over inheritance–blew up. Bored teens hyped it to the top.
Jealousy, pushing someone down stairs, getting kicked out—the juicier the story, the faster it spread.
Overnight, Aubree’s name was the talk of Rithol High.
Aubree took the bus to school and went straight to her old art class to get her name off the roster.
The art class was chill, especially with the new semester just kicking off. As she climbed the stairs, the loud chatter inside was hard to miss.
“No way! Carmen, you’re going to Rithol Art School for the rest of the year? You actually scored that spot?”
“Come on, it’s Carmen we’re talking about. A Rithol Art School slot isn’t just handed out.”
“Guys, ease up on the praise. I just got lucky,” Carmen said. Aubree didn’t need to see her to know she was eating up the attention, probably smirking while playing the humble card.
‘Such a fake, Aubree thought.
The room was full of Carmen’s fan club, tossing in a few digs at Aubree.
She ignored them and pushed open the door. The place went dead quiet.
Papers in hand, Aubree walked up to the teacher. “Hey, can you sign this?”
“You sure about switching to regular classes?” the teacher asked.
“Yeah.”
The teacher signed without a fuss and crossed Aubree’s name off the list. That quick exchange got everyone whispering again.
“Is Aubree losing it? Getting kicked out of the Wilson family really hit her hard, huh? Dropping art for regular classes? That’s a weird way to give up,” someone muttered.
“Probably can’t handle being around Carmen anymore. Easier to quit than look bad.”
The gossip didn’t faze Aubree one bit.
As she turned to leave, Carmen grabbed her arm. “Aubree, stop being dumb. You can’t just switch to regular classes to get Mom, Dad, and the boys to care. Don’t tank your future like this.”
Carmen’s face was all “I’m so let down.”
Her words had everyone nodding like it clicked. ‘So, that’s it–Aubree’s just chasing pity!‘
