During dinner, I couldn't help but keep feeling my attention drift to the carer who kept trying to silently attract Colborn's attention while she thought nobody was watching. I didn't understand the carer. She might have looked around Colborn's age but why would he be interested in her streaky powdered face? Colborn ignored her steadfastly, concentrating only on serving Mr Borges and instructing Lance on the nuances of service during formal dinners. Lance had just finished his academic degree for the year and so was doing live-in training within the house, preparing for the occasions when Colborn would be absent.
Lance kept casting sidelong glances in my direction but I wasn't sure if he was looking at me or at my weirdly behaving carer who had taken my cutlery. I reached for my cup but it was too far away.
"Excuse me," Lance said, interrupting the carer's attempts to ensnare Colborn with her bad looks. He walked over to bring my cup closer and retrieved my cutlery.
Colborn exchanged glances at Mr Borges who nodded.
"You may retire to the kitchen to have your dinner," Colborn directly addressed the carer for the first time during the meal. "Lance will take over serving the young lady as practice."
"Ohoh," the carer seemed to have woken up and a grin spread across her face. "Thank you."
She left and the rest of us in the dining room seemed to heave a sigh of relief.
Mr Borges then politely asked me about my day while Lance served me and helped me cut up my food when I struggled with it. I had only needed to glance at him and he had understood my non-verbal plea. Everything was arranged so perfectly so it was easy to concentrate on bringing the fork to my mouth without making a mess. When my hands trembled, due to accumulated fatigue from the day, he sat down to patiently feed me, while I engaged in conversation with Mr Borges.
Mr Borges had stopped Lance then. He had tried to feed me a few mouthfuls himself but his face grew so red and flushed and then flustered that he had ended up creating a mess. For some reason, his hands kept shaking. Colborn politely suggested Lance take back over to continue practicing to improve his skills. It was a relief. Mr Borges took the chance to retreat, blushing all the way to the tips of his ears.
Later that evening, he sat by my bed to keep me company before I fell asleep, reading me the daily news from the day's paper and stroking my hand. I could put up with his touch since he had agreed to help me stay up to date with what was going on in the city. Otherwise I might have smacked him good. I didn't really like anybody touching me recently.
The carer may have been warned by someone that evening, as she didn't behave so outrageously again, but she seemed to hate me a lot more too. As if the reprimand was my fault. She was intent on making my life difficult in more ways than before, such as purposely making sure my underwear was always giving me wedgies, not washing the soap off my body so that I ended up with a rash or purposely putting little pebbles in my shoes. I did my best to ignore her. I'd take it as incentive to get better faster, so that she didn't need to stay here anymore.
Time passed and I worked hard. Soon, I was exploring the floor of the house where my bedroom was a bit at a time. I tried to stay focussed on my goals and not on things that had happened in the past or the bullying in the present. In training, they used to tell us that we couldn't change the past, but we could change the future. How we chose to live our lives depended upon our attitudes and the decisions we made.
Some days, I didn't have the energy. I'd lie in bed, feeling depressed. Other days, I'd roam restlessly, as if seeking a way out, but knowing there was no way for me to leave, even if I wanted to. One, I wasn't well enough and two, the city was in turmoil. It was all over the news and the public were panicking.
I wanted to be where I should be. With my colleagues helping maintain the peace against foreign agents and helping remove menaces from society. Although I wasn't very good at my job, after training with Shigure, I knew I was a lot more competent. I was his partner. I should be working with him and helping to share the load. However, whenever I attempted to access the part of me that tapped into my abilities, I'd feel like someone had stabbed a red hot knife into my head. Nine times out of ten, the pain would knock me unconscious.
No wonder Shigure had told me not to use any of my abilities. I wondered if my mind would ever heal. Without my abilities, I was back to being a normal person. A weak, helpless and useless one. The me from before I was pulled out of normal life by Mr Holt had been pretty worthless. I hadn't been able to do anything or defend myself from anything.
As a City Agent, I was meant to be good at self defence. Under Shigure's training, I had been confident I'd be able to handle at least the average criminal. But Chad hadn't been a usual criminal and I might as well not have trained since he had handled me so easily. Mr Borges's brother had been a normal person. I ought to have been able to take him on and teach him a lesson myself, but I had been unable to do anything when he had come. I had been a helpless leaf in the wind.
I had failed Shigure. Failed my training. Failed myself. What was the use of me?
As I improved, the carer was more interested in making me serve her when no one was around or watching. She'd be busy talking to her boyfriend on the phone or playing on her mobile. She'd get me to fetch and wash and use me as her footstool. Sometimes, she'd leave me alone to go out to work another job. When she had to help me with anything, she'd scold and pinch me when no one else was looking.
If Mr Borges hadn't dropped by unexpectedly one day to pick up a document with his assistant, Mr Asvel, and seen with his own eyes how the carer treated me, I would have had to continue to suffer in silence. Colborn had gone out for some errands, so I had been left alone with the carer. Hearing the words she had said while she berated me for wasting a bowl of cold instant noodles she had dumped on my head when it had gone soggy because she'd been too engrossed on her phone, followed by me taking too long to clean up and then me falling in the shower 'on purpose' to make life difficult for her and get her into trouble, the woman was fired on the spot. She left with defiant tears, as if she hadn't done anything wrong, cursing us for being evil employers who cared nothing for their hard working staff.
I was left covered in soap suds lying under a cold shower where I had fallen while the woman stormed off and Mr Asvel escorted her out. Mr Borges spoke to me from outside the bathroom door.
"I'm sorry, Kim," he said. "I should have checked with you how you were getting along with that infuriating woman. Are you alright in there? Do you need any help?"
"No," I said after taking a deep breath. Shakily I stood up to change the water temperature and finish my shower, but the tiles underfoot were slippery and I fell.
Mr Borges burst in, grabbed a towel to help cover me up and helped me into sitting. He blanched when he realised that the water was at the coldest setting. He turned the tap off.
"Kim, are you alright?" he asked with concern and I nodded. "You're so cold. You're still covered with soap. By the time we organise for someone to come out here, you might have caught a cold. I'm worried to leave you in here by yourself. Kim, tell me how I can help you."
From inside the towel, I blinked at the worried man. Why had he covered me with his umbrella at the bus stop? I was just a stranger. I had nothing to do with him and he, being a rich CEO, why had he been at the bus stop in the first place? Why had he followed me around the corner and taken me to hospital? Who, no, what was I to him?
Somehow, my thoughts had been spoken out loud, making Mr Borges pause.
"Kim," he propped me up on the wet floor of the shower cubicle with his body, probably ruining his expensive suit. He took both my cold cheeks between his warm hands, forcing me to look into his eyes. I couldn't help noticing his ears growing a deepening shade of pink. "Kim, you are an important human being. Your life is as important as anybody else's. I stopped the car when I saw you at the bus stop. Firstly, I thought you were beautiful , and secondly, I saw that you needed help and nobody else was reaching out to help you. It's as simple as that. I apologise for everything that has happened since, but I just sincerely want you to get better. I just want to help you and see you smile."
"Oh," I said and thought for a moment. "I'm not beautiful though. Nobody helps street rats like me. I still don't understand, but ok. If you say so."
"Kim," Mr Borges had a pained expression on his face, "has no one ever treated you well?"
"My school teacher has. My instructor has. My partner has," I counted on my fingers. "The director has. I guess my adoptive parents have," I thought of the two giant dinosaurs who had claimed I was their daughter. "And maybe Big Brother although he's borderline nice. Mm," I nodded, double checking. "That's it. Six. Oh no. Wait. You have. So it's seven people. Seven nice people is pretty good, don't you think? I can't count Colborn and Lance yet. They're being paid to be nice to me."
"Oh, my girl. You're so beautiful," Mr Borges hugged me tight. "Seven is just the start. I'm sure you'll find lots more nice people out there one day."
I nodded.
"That'd be nice," I agreed and shivered.
"So how are we going to help you finish your shower?" Mr Borges asked, his ears burning an even brighter red. "I don't want to invade your privacy."
"I'll sit here and do it," I told him. "If you could just help me turn on the warm water and then help me to bed after, I think I can do it myself. My legs aren't working properly. Please don't get another carer. I'll do things myself. And can we please stop all the therapy and the Psychology sessions? I don't like them."
"Very well. I can organise for Colborn and Lance to check in on you during the day," Mr Borges said. "It's just that they're male. I hope you won't mind too much?"
"That's fine," I agreed. "I know them and I trust them more than that crazy woman. I'm a lot better now. I won't need too much help, I think."
"Colborn is the perfect gentleman," Mr Borges reassured me. "He'll help you with whatever you need. For now, if you'll excuse me, I'll just help you get the water temperature right. Get me a clean towel for Miss Ginnan, please," Mr Borges called out to Mr Asvel who was standing in the open bathroom door with his back to us. "Have you called that carer's company and lodged a complaint yet?"
"It's done, Mr Borges," Mr Asvel replied from outside the door, where I heard him opening and closing drawers, looking for the towels. "They will investigate and fire her."
"Good. Make sure she can't find work in this industry again. Since that woman is unsuited to being a carer, she can go find other work where she won't be able to harm anyone else. Inform Colborn and Lance that taking care of Miss Ginnan during the day will also be a part of their duties from now on. Have them check in on her as needed. Tell Colborn or Lance to bring her a warm drink in half an hour when they get back. That carer was using cold water to shower her," Mr Borges said, carefully helping me sit upright and making sure I had my balance before he stood up to turn the shower head away from me and turn the water back on. There was a blush on his cheeks now.
"Yes, Mr Borges," Mr Asvel said in a calm tone and I heard his footsteps leave.
"I'm going to be away on business for a week," Mr Borges told me, checking the water temperature with his hand and not looking at me. "Lance will be your personal butler and assist you while I'm gone. After all the training Colborn has put him through, I have no qualms in leaving you in his hands. I believe he is a as reliable a gentleman as his uncle. I'll officially hire him tomorrow. Colborn will return home before I do in the middle of the week, as he has some other matters to deal with, but I will most likely only return next week."
I nodded.
"The water temperature is just nice now. Are you sure you won't need any help?" Mr Borges asked and I hesitated, his cheeks were now filled with a bright colour.
"Could you help me with my hair?" I asked awkwardly. My arms got tired easily after raising them. It seemed to take forever to wash the conditioner out sometimes.
"I can do that," Mr Borges said in a gentle tone, kneeling down to help me again.
I stayed wrapped up in my towel and he helped me wash my hair. Somehow, I didn't know when, but I was leaning against him again.
"Kim," he said gently, and I noticed that the colour in his face was even brighter than before, "you fell asleep. Let me help you rinse everything else off and put you to bed, ok? I won't have any other thoughts."
I nodded sleepily. There wasn't much to see on me, anyway. He was gentle and I didn't disdain his lingering touch.