lphas Second Choice novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3

In the world of adults, there is no time for sadness.

After being reassigned to the communications unit, I threw myself into training, determined to prove myself.

But during a high–intensity drill, an old injury flared up, and I had to pay for therapy myself.

I thought about asking Issac for some money, but he’d rather throw a celebration for Chloe than

help me.

I had no choice but to figure it out on my own.

I moved out of Issac’s apartment and back into the dorms.

Though the conditions were worse, I didn’t have to face Issac every day.

Without a boyfriend’s help, I knew I could make it on my own.

Although I wasn’t in the combat unit, my skills were still sharp.

I started taking on some part–time work in technical guidance and training.

I had to balance completing daily tasks with earning money for therapy.

Every day was a routine of the training field, therapy room, and part–time job–three locations in a straight line.

Even meals were spent reviewing communications codes.

My brother, who had been out of touch for so long, suddenly blocked me at the dorm entrance.

He brought his wife, Lucy, to try to talk sense into me.

“Freya, why are you back in the dorms? Your injury isn’t fully healed, and the dorm conditions are

so bad…”

I kept glancing anxiously at my watch–my training session was about to start.

“Because I can’t afford to stay in an apartment anymore. The dorm is free.”

Patrick’s eyes reddened.

Lucy spoke up. “Freya, you and Issac really need to have a proper talk…”

“Talk about what? Haven’t I already been avoiding suspicion as he asked?”

“And Patrick, you really shouldn’t be seen here. Wouldn’t want people saying I only kept my place in the corps because of family ties. Wouldn’t want to tarnish your reputation.”

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I left them behind and ran toward the camp gate.

If I missed this bus, I’d be late, and I’d lose the pay for the part–time class hours.

Suddenly, a shout came from behind, “Watch out!”

A motorcycle rushed out from around the corner, grazing past me.

In a split second, I managed to protect my teaching materials, which rolled across the ground.

The materials were fine, but my left shoulder slammed into a stone, and the pain shot through me

like a knife.

“Freya! Are you okay? Don’t move, I’ll call the healer! How could you ride like that?”

I took a deep breath. “Give me the phone first. I need to take the day off.”

My phone had flown out of my hand earlier.

But my brother was furious. “Are you seriously thinking about your part–time job right now?! Is money more important than your health?”

He picked up my phone, refused to give it to me, and hung up the incoming call.

I couldn’t take it anymore and shouted back, “Because I owe therapy fees! Because my boyfriend

would rather spend money on a celebration for someone else than lend me any!”

“What else can I do but work my ass off to earn money?”

“Give me the phone!”

My words silenced Patrick, and Lucy quickly handed me the phone.

I called the training center to explain the situation.

The motorcycle driver glanced at me and decided to settle the matter privately.

He transferred 500 bucks to my account, patted me on the shoulder, and gave my brother a quick

look.

It was clear without saying a word.

Patrick flushed, a mix of shame and frustration.

Seeing that I was waiting to have my materials delivered, he stayed with me.

But he couldn’t help but continue lecturing, “Freya, your main focus now should be recovering. Once your injury heals…”

I showed him the phone.

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“Every day, I get a notice from the therapy center asking for payment. Do you really think I can focus on healing?”

“I’m not asking for your help. Just please stop interfering with my work.”

Patrick’s lips trembled, his voice hoarse. “Freya, do you… hate us?”

I looked at him deeply.

“I’m just… really disappointed.”

That day, my brother and Lucy left, lost and dejected.

Chapter 3