On her fourteenth birthday, Alice had no interest in celebrating. Fourteen years of a life that had brought her little joy weren’t exactly reason to cheer for the next one. Unfortunately, no one cared what the birthday girl thought. Helena baked a cake. Walery brought presents. Gregory… well, he did something, because he was absolutely glowing with pride. Alice watched them with quiet resignation. Somewhere deep in her chest, irritation began to simmer—the kind that, if unleashed, would’ve erupted into full-blown rage.

  “Who would’ve thought,” Helena whispered, teary-eyed. “Fourteen already. You’re a woman now. Time flies.”

  “Well, gotta admit, you’ve grown,” Gregory said, still grinning like an idiot. “Another inch, and you’ll be as tall as me. Slim and elegant.”

  “Skinny,” Walery corrected. “Back in my day, women had more to them. But you’ll fill out. You’ve got a pretty face and big eyes, your figure will catch up.”

  “Thanks,” Alice replied, raising her brows and pressing her lips together. She wouldn’t ruin the cheerful mood. She wouldn’t.

  “Who would’ve thought she’d turn out to be such a princess,” Helena said. “When she arrived, she was just a scrap of a thing, knew nothing about the world. And now… look at her. All grown up in the blink of an eye.”

  “Oh, come on, Helka,” Walery cut in. “She’s healthy, isn’t she? Of course she was gonna grow. Leave her be—let her enjoy her day.”

  “Yeeeah…” Alice sighed, rolling her eyes.

  Of course, she was grateful to have them, even if they’d been dead for years. They were still her only family. She appreciated everything they gave her: the effort, the love, the warmth of a home. It wasn’t that she didn’t see it. She just… didn’t dwell on it. Puberty had hijacked her brain, fixating her on every flaw—especially her body. She felt uncomfortable in it. Too tall. Too skinny. Awkward proportions. Small breasts. Hips that felt too wide. Arms and abs shaped by years of training, leaving her lean and muscular—nothing like her softer, curvier classmates. They might’ve been plain, but at least they had boobs. No one ever mistook them for boys.

  Life as a teenage girl was hell. Alice was so consumed by self-pity that she didn’t even notice the room falling silent. It took her a few blinks to focus. Standing in the doorway was Not-a-Doctor, dressed sharply in a black suit.

  “Hello, Alice,” he said, bowing slightly. “How are you on this… special occasion?”

  “Terrible. Thanks for showing up to make it worse.”

  The words slipped out—a reflex she couldn’t stifle. Only after they’d left her mouth did she grasp their cruelty. And then she felt guilty. Weirdly, inexplicably guilty. It wasn’t her fault! Maybe he’d come to wish her a happy birthday—but he’d never done that before. He never checked on her. Never asked. Never cared whether she lived or obeyed. He’d barely spoken to her in years. So why remember her now?

  “I’m so glad my presence brings you such joy.”

  Exactly. That smug tone. That empty gaze with the faintest ironic smile always playing on his lips. As if he needed to remind her he never took her seriously. No matter how cruel her words, he remained infuriatingly unfazed. Every conversation left her feeling stupid—no matter how carefully she chose her words. God, she hated him more each year.

  “What do you want?” she growled.

  “To take you out for coffee,” he answered, flashing a mocking smile. “Get ready. And don’t bother protesting. I don’t care what you want.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  They drove into the city. Alice wasn’t surprised by the latest-model Mercedes idling outside, loaded with every luxury imaginable. What did surprise her was watching the Not-a-Doctor slide behind the wheel. She’d never imagined he even knew how to drive.

  “I thought you weren’t allowed back in this world,” she said, staring out the window. Looking at his handsome face this close was… unsettling.

  “I hide in your shadow, Alice. No one’s meant to notice me.”

  “That’s another one of your cryptic insults, isn’t it?”

  “No.”

  Alice waited. He said nothing more. She exhaled and let it go.

  They drove in near-silence, yet the quiet between them wasn’t uncomfortable. Music drifted from the speakers, and was unlike anything Alice knew. Heavy guitar riffs, a raw voice, but the mood was calm. Melancholic. She liked the contrast. Before she realized it, the album ended and the car stopped in the heart of the city.

  “Perfect timing,” he said, killing the engine.

  “Where are we?” she asked, suddenly out of place in the concrete jungle.

  “I thought we’d have coffee and talk. But first—we shop.”

  “Shopping? Seriously? After all this time, you suddenly want to fix things? Too late. And I’m not in the—”

  “Excellent,” he interrupted. “I wasn’t asking. I’m not sitting in a café with someone who smells like a barn.”

  The jab stung. Alice glared but stayed silent. She stepped out, chin high, and marched toward the mall. He hadn’t hurt her. Not really. But the insult would linger. Fuel for the fire inside her.

  They hit several stores. The assistants were oddly polite, but their stares felt… off. Something in their eyes unsettled her. Still, she left with three pairs of jeans, shirts, tops, and a short leather jacket. Damn him. Not-a-Doctor had impeccable taste. He could pluck perfection from a pile of rags, and every piece fit her flawlessly.

  “You’re growing up, Alice. Time your wardrobe caught up,” he said at the register.

  “Where do you even get the money for this?” she muttered.

  “It’s yours,” he replied, as if it were obvious. “Remember the old bunker? Go back. You’ll understand.”

  Alice clenched her jaw to keep her expression neutral.

  “I went once. That was enough.”

  “Ah, yes. Childhood curiosity fades so fast.”

  “Don’t change the subject, for fuck’s sake,” she snapped, fists clenched to keep from shouting in the store. “You’re spending my money without asking.”

  The cashier glanced up, and Alice immediately hated the look in her eyes. Pure contempt.

  “Is this your daughter?” the woman asked, scanning another item.

  Alice and Not-a-Doctor exchanged looks—hers shocked, his amused.

  “No,” he said, smirking.

  Her blood boiled. It wasn’t jealousy. Their relationship was pure bitterness. But it was something worse: that woman looked at her like trash. Not a person. Not even a child. Just... a nuisance. Disposable. She turned to the man, hoping for reaction, but he didn’t glance her way.

  The cashier flashed a saccharine smile and pressed:

  “Little sister, then?”

  “No.”

  The man checked the total and produced a wad of cash.

  “Family?” The woman was eyeing him like prime rib now.

  He gave her a dazzling grin, handed over the bills, and said: “It's none of your business. Keep the change.”

  Then he casually passed Alice the shopping bag and strolled off. Just like that, her mood lifted a bit.

  They covered the entire mall in under three hours. The tension eased as they walked, arms laden with bags. Their next stop was a small beauty salon where Not-a-Doctor vanished the moment the beautician began her work.

  The silence here felt different—peaceful. Soft radio melodies lulled Alice into a dreamy state. The woman’s warm hands, her occasional gentle questions, all made Alice’s head feel light. For the first time in ages, she relaxed completely. The spell broke when Not-a-Doctor reappeared to pay. More shopping bags waited in the car, but Alice didn’t question them. Yawning, she slid into the passenger seat.

  “Where next?”

  A hair salon tamed her wild mane. She changed into her new clothes there, and the mirror nearly stunned her. She looked... transformed. Older. Polished. The whole drive to the café, she kept stealing glances at her reflection.

  “Well?” Not-a-Doctor lit a cigarette. “Acceptable birthday gift?”

  “Don’t smoke. I’ll reek.”

  “Notice how I care.” He took a long drag, exhaling through his nose.

  “Thanks. I almost forgot what an asshole you are.”

  She crossed her arms and slouched.

  “Such language. What are they teaching you at school?”

  Alice stayed silent, staring out the window. But the question burst out eventually:

  “How do you even know this stuff? Clothes, makeup, trends... You don’t live here. You’re not—”

  “But the sellers do,” he interrupted. “I borrow their knowledge.”

  “Mind reading?”

  He chuckled at her skepticism. “No. I go deeper. Absorb it fully. That’s how it works.”

  Alice asked nothing more. The picture was clear enough.