Finally, I found the medicine and sprayed it on myself like a life-saving straw. I climbed up to the window and breathed fresh air in big gulps.

It was already late at night when the house was cleaned up. Camile turned on her mobile phone and updated a nine-square grid of photos on her social media.

[A false alarm, luckily there were two knights on call! I just wronged them ....]

In the photo, Oliver and Orlando were lying on the floor next to her bed, one on the left and one on the right.

A while ago, we went on a National Day trip and all the hotels were fully booked, so I had to book a homestay.

The two of them yelled and complained that the bed was too hard and not comfortable for people to sleep on, so they got angry and rushed home overnight.

Now they were even willing to sleep on the floor! It must be hard for the two precious and noble young brothers, right?

Looking at the countdown on my mobile phone where one day had passed, I felt silent. In five days, I would leave here.

It had nothing to do with them anymore!

The next day, I was forced to wake up and Orlando, with a gloomy face, dragged me to the living room regardless of anything.

On the sofa, Camile's eyes were red as she looked at a photo on her mobile phone.

"Hermione, I know you've never liked me. All this time you must have thought I stole your dad away, so you have to throw away even the figurines I gave to Oliver and Orlando, right?"

Oliver's face did not look good either as he handed the mobile phone to me.

"Where did you throw this figurine? Mimi drew it herself and gave it to us!"

I suddenly remembered the things I had dropped in the haste of my asthma attack last night.

"Last night, the kitchen caught fire because you forgot to turn off the stove while cooking beef rib soup and I accidentally dropped it ...."

Oliver stood up and angrily reached out his hand, as if trying to hit me, but was stopped by Camile.

"I know you really didn't mean it, Hermione. How about we let you compensate me with something else? I think the pottery doll on your beside looks pretty."

"No way!"

"Okay."

My refusal voice coincided with the unanimous agreement of the two brothers from the Lynch Family.

My mother asked for that pottery doll for me before she passed away. She said that the doll would accompany me for the rest of my life on her behalf.