40.

The days passed in a blur. A cold, lingering emptiness settled into Alina’s bones, an ache she couldn’t place.

Caelan was gone. Disappeared.

Jace had tried everything—calling, tracking his known whereabouts, even pressing the people who worked under him—but it was as if the man had vanished into thin air. And with every failed attempt, Alina withdrew further into herself.

She stopped talking much.

At first, Jace tried to shake her out of it—cracking jokes, dragging her outside for fresh air, even putting on her favorite movies just to see if she’d react. But nothing worked. She sat there, present but absent, like a ghost of herself.

And it scared him.

So, he stayed close. He cooked for her, made sure she ate, forced her to sleep when he caught her staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night. But nothing he did could fix whatever Caelan had done to her.

And that made Jace furious.

Now, they sat at the small dining table in her apartment, the dim glow of the overhead light casting soft shadows across her face. She toyed with her food, pushing it around her plate without eating much.

Jace sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Lina, you need to get back out there."

She blinked, finally looking up at him. "Back out where?"

"Life, Alina. You can’t just sit here and let this consume you." He hesitated, then carefully said, "Maybe… maybe it’s time to start looking for a job again."

Her shoulders slumped, her gaze dropping back to her plate.

Damn it. Jace rubbed a hand down his face. He knew how much she hated this conversation. Knew how much every rejection chipped away at her. But he couldn’t just sit here and watch her fall apart.

Before he could backtrack, a faint buzz filled the silence.

Alina’s phone.

She picked it up, her brows knitting together as she read something on the screen. Jace watched as her lips parted slightly, the tiniest flicker of… something passing through her eyes.

"What is it?" he asked.

She hesitated, then turned the screen toward him.

It was a job listing.

Seeking Translator: Chinese to English
Must be proficient in both languages. Experience preferred but not required.

Jace straightened. "You should apply."

Alina let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Jace, every job I apply for ends the same way."

"Yeah, but this is different," he argued. "You love books, you love languages, and it says experience is preferred, not required. Just… try."

She stared at the screen. "And if I fail again?"

"You won’t."

"You don’t know that."

Jace reached across the table, his fingers curling gently around hers. "Then fail, Alina. Fail a hundred times if you have to. But at least try. Don’t let this—" He gestured vaguely, frustration in his voice. "—keep you from moving forward."

She swallowed, her fingers tightening slightly around his.

A long pause.

Then, with a small breath, she whispered, "Okay."

Jace exhaled, squeezing her hand before letting go.

For the first time in days, something shifted.

It wasn’t much.

But it was something.

The morning came with a grey overcast sky, the chill in the air seeping into Alina’s bones as she stepped off the university bus. The usual hum of students chatting and the rustle of papers barely registered in her mind as she trudged up the stairs to her apartment.

Jace had texted her earlier, reminding her to eat lunch. She hadn’t responded.

Her fingers felt numb as she unlocked the door, stepping inside the quiet space. The apartment felt different lately—like a place she existed in rather than lived in. She dropped her bag by the couch and stared at the coffee table where her laptop sat open, waiting.

The job listing was still there.

A translator for Chinese to English novels.

It wasn’t exactly what she had dreamed of, but it was something. And Jace was right—she couldn’t just sit here and let everything weigh her down.

With a deep breath, she sat down, fingers hesitating over the keyboard before she pulled up her resume.

Her experience wasn’t much—just some freelance work and a passion for languages. But she crafted her words carefully, making sure to highlight every skill she had, every reason why they should at least consider her.

When she was done, she leaned back, rereading the email draft.

She could already hear the rejection. Could already imagine the polite but firm “We’ve decided to move forward with other candidates” response.

Still…

She hit send before she could overthink it.

The confirmation email popped up instantly. Your application has been received. We will review it and get back to you soon.

Alina stared at the screen, waiting for some kind of relief to wash over her. It didn’t.

Instead, all she felt was exhaustion.

With a sigh, she shut the laptop and curled up on the couch, staring at the ceiling. The waiting game had begun.