[Flashback]
Ashley could not clearly remember when she started dreaming of leaving the Di Carpios’ household.
Was it the first time Marshal slapped her across the face so hard her small body was sent flying?
Or the time Isabella intentionally made a mess for her to clean, only to stomp on her hands while she wiped the floor?
Or when Carmella beat her like she was an adult, punishing her so severely she thought she was going to die?
Ashley could not remember the details, but she clearly remembered one thing—she wanted to leave. She wanted to escape this hellish life, even if it meant death.
And for the first time, when Scott dragged her to her first mission under Marshal’s orders—just because they needed a child for that mission—she took advantage of it.
She escaped.
She ran as fast as she could through the freezing winter, not looking back.
Before she knew it, she found herself treading through a narrow, cold alley.
Good thing I got dressed warmly, she thought, tapping herself with her small palms as if to make sure she stayed warm.
But as she moved, something caught the corner of her eye.
Turning her head, she blinked and tilted it to the side.
"...a cat?" she whispered, furrowing her brows as she studied the figure.
The white frost had almost covered it, and with how small it looked, she thought it was an animal.
Little Ashley approached, only realizing when she got closer that it was a boy.
A boy!
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she took in his loose sleeveless shirt and oversized shorts. He was skin and bone, with nothing to keep him warm. His lips had turned purple, as if he were on the verge of death.
Little Ashley knew she was not in a position to help. If anything, she was the one who needed help.
But still... she couldn’t just turn away from someone on the brink of death.
Everyone in her life had always looked the other way whenever she was hurt or needed help.
After all, the people who did try to help her out of pity were punished or driven away.
Without thinking, little Ashley removed her scarf and placed it over the boy. It wasn’t enough, so she took off her coat—everything she had—and covered him.
To her surprise, the boy was conscious.
He quietly looked up at her, his body barely shivering as he teetered on the edge of freezing to death.
She smiled at him. "Don’t catch a cold."
It was ironic, considering he was already freezing to death. But that was all she could say; telling him not to die felt even crueler.
Little Ashley shivered as she hugged herself, already regretting giving him her clothes.
She eyed the layers she had placed on him, then reached out and gently ruffled his hair, brushing away the snow.
"So cold," she muttered, shivering as she tiptoed closer.
She squeezed herself beside him, slipping under the scarf and coat, sharing what little warmth remained.
"Hehe," she giggled, looking at him innocently. "I’m cold too."
The boy’s eyes were half-lidded, his vision blurred. Yet her smile shone too brightly in the darkness and cold.
The warmth of another person slowly seeped into his frozen skin.
Dirty, he thought. Smells good.
He knew he was filthy. Compared to him, she smelled sweet and clean.
And yet, she pressed herself beside him.
She could’ve ignored him like everyone else who passed through this dirty, foul-smelling alley. But she didn’t.
Are they looking for you? he wondered. Did you steal something too... like me?
"..." the boy weakly looked up at her.
"Good!" she giggled brightly. "I thought you were dead. That scared me a bit! I don’t want to sleep beside a dead person! That’s scary!"
She rubbed his shoulders, then his face, then his hands, blowing warm air onto his fingers.
"Today, it’s not as cold," she said, pointing toward the end of the alley. "See? The sun’s out!"
Little Ashley nodded, satisfied, thinking the worst of the cold had passed. She then crawled out of their cramped corner, only to pause when she felt something tug at her clothes.
"Huh?"
She blinked repeatedly, tilting her head. The boy clutched the hem of her shirt, his gaunt face revealing clear signs of malnutrition.
Little Ashley squatted in front of him.
"Do they hurt you too?" she asked with a small smile. "Did you run away? Same! Do you want to come with me?"
The boy didn’t answer immediately, but after a moment, he found the strength to nod.
Don’t go, he wanted to say.
They’re looking for you.
But he was too weak. All he could do was hold onto her.
Little Ashley misunderstood, thinking he wanted to come with her.
So she helped him up, dragging his frail body along—even though she had no idea where to go...or how to survive in this cruel world.
"By the way," she cleared her throat, beaming. "My name’s..."
She paused for a second as she thought of her name. Then, she smiled again and said,
"Boo! I’m Boo!"
She raised her hands, fingers curled like a ghost. "Call me Boo!"

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