Oops, Wrong Girl to Bully Chapter 7

Angelina's POV

I stared at Ethan's phone screen, the silver raven glowing against the darkness.

"It's a language learning app," I said. "For German."

Leo squinted at the screen. "That doesn't look like Duolingo."

"It's not. It's more advanced." I kept my voice casual. "For people who actually want to become fluent."

"Since when do you speak German?" Ethan's tone was careful. Not suspicious. Just curious.

"I don't. Yet." I started typing in German. My fingers moved fast across the keyboard. "I'm learning. Been using it for a while."

Leo leaned closer, trying to read the screen. "What does that say?"

"It's a practice conversation," I said. "About ordering food at a restaurant."

What I'd actually typed: Ich lebe noch. Habe das Yachtunglück überlebt. Gehe vorsichtig vor. Brauche Geld für Operationen.

I'm still alive. Survived the yacht incident. Proceeding with caution. Need funds for operations.

I hit send.

The message disappeared into the black screen immediately.

Leo was still staring. "That raven thing is creepy as hell."

"It's just the app's logo." I shrugged. "They're trying to be edgy. You know how these companies are."

Ethan hadn't moved. His eyes were on my face, not the screen.

"You've been learning German?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Good question.

"I saw this documentary," I said. "About Berlin. It looked cool. Thought it might be fun to learn the language."

He studied me for another second. Then nodded.

"That's actually pretty smart," he said. "Learning languages opens doors. Especially if you want to travel someday."

His voice carried a hint of something. Regret, maybe. Or longing.

I remembered what Aria's memories had shown me. Ethan had been ranked third in his entire city during high school. Got accepted to the state university with a partial scholarship.

But he'd never gone.

Just started working at the auto shop the week after graduation. Never told Mom and Dad he'd turned down college.

Because the family needed money more than he needed a degree.

The phone buzzed.

A notification appeared on the black screen. Just a single line of German text.

Verstanden. Alle haben sich Sorgen gemacht. Wie viel brauchst du?

Understood. Everyone's been worried. How much do you need?

Kingfisher. My Beta. One of the thirteen members of the Raven Court.

Loyal to the bone. Smart. Efficient.

I typed back: Zehn Millionen. Gebe in zwei Tagen Kontonummer.

Ten million. Will provide account number in two days.

Leo whistled. "Damn, you type fast."

"Lots of practice."

The response came in seconds.

Wird sofort arrangiert. Werde andere diskret informieren.

Will arrange immediately. Will inform others discreetly.

Perfect.

I closed the browser. Handed Ethan his phone back.

But before I did, I quickly added something. A few lines of code buried in the phone's security settings. Multi-layer firewall. IP scrambler. The kind of protection that would make it nearly impossible for anyone to trace that conversation back to this device.

Ethan took the phone, slipping it back into his pocket. "You know, I don't understand a word of German," he said. "Never even took a language class in high school. Went straight to work after graduation."

There was no bitterness in his voice. Just a statement of fact.

But it hurt to hear.

"You were third in your whole city," I said quietly.

His head snapped toward me. "How do you know that?"

"Mom told me. A long time ago."

Ethan's jaw tightened. "That was a long time ago."

"You could've gone to college."

"Yeah, well." He shrugged. "Family needed me more."

Leo shifted uncomfortably. "Can we not do this? It's depressing."

"Leo's right," Ethan said. He reached over and ruffled my hair again. "Besides, I like working at the shop. Fixing cars is honest work."

I looked at him. Really looked at him.

Twenty-five years old. Grease under his fingernails. Tired eyes. He'd given up everything for this family.

And he was standing here, smiling at me like it didn't matter.

"Thanks," I said. My voice came out softer than I meant it to.

"For what?"

"For being here."

Something flickered across his face. Surprise, maybe. Or warmth.

"You're my sister," he said simply. "Where else would I be?"

I spent the rest of the night in that hospital bed eating.

Mom and Dad brought fruit. Apples, oranges, grapes. "To nourish your body," Mom said, arranging them carefully on the bedside table.

Ethan showed up around eight with a huge bag of snacks. Chips, candy bars, cookies. "Thought you might get hungry," he said, even though I knew he ate the cheapest sandwich every day at the shop to save money.

And at midnight, Leo snuck out of the hospital and came back with takeout. Burgers, fries, a chocolate milkshake.

"Don't tell Mom," he whispered, grinning. "She'd kill me for feeding you junk food."

I ate everything.

Not because I was hungry. But because each bite felt like love.

A family that cared if I ate enough fruit. Brothers who'd spend money they didn't have just to make me smile.

It was overwhelming. And terrifying.

Because now I had something to lose.

Saturday noon. The sun was brutal.

Leo and I walked home together, sticking to the shaded side of the street wherever we could find it.

Ethan had left early for the auto shop. Saturday was their busiest day.

Mom and Dad were already at work. So they'd sent Leo to pick me up.

"You sure you're okay to walk?" Leo asked for the third time. "We could call a cab."

"I'm fine."

"You jumped out a window two days ago."

"I fell."

"Whatever." He shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets. "Still weird that you're not hurt."

I didn't answer.

We walked in silence for a while. The neighborhood was quiet. Old houses with peeling paint. Cracked sidewalks. Chain-link fences.

Not the worst area. But definitely not the best.

"Hey," Leo said suddenly. "You hungry?"

"I just ate breakfast at the hospital."

"Yeah, but like. Real food. Not hospital crap." He pulled out his phone, scrolling through something. "There's this steakhouse like ten minutes from here. We could grab lunch."

I glanced at him. "Steakhouse?"

"Yeah." He tried to sound casual. But I could hear the excitement underneath. "I've been saving up my allowance. Figured we could celebrate you not dying."

Aria's memories supplied the context immediately.

Leo's "allowance" was twenty dollars a week. He'd been saving for months. Skipping breakfast most days, eating the free bagels and peanut butter the school provided instead.

All so he could afford to take his sister out for a steak.

My chest tightened.

"Leo—"

"Don't say no." He looked at me with those hopeful eyes. "Come on. When's the last time you had a good steak?"

Never. At least not in this body.

"Okay," I said quietly.

His whole face lit up. "Yeah? Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Awesome!" He practically bounced on his feet. "They have this ribeye thing that's supposed to be amazing. And loaded baked potatoes. And—"

He kept talking the whole way home, planning out exactly what we'd order.

And I let him.

Because this—this excitement, this simple joy of doing something nice for his sister—was something I'd never experienced before.

In my old life, people gave me things because they feared me. Or wanted something from me.

But Leo? He just wanted to see me smile.

"We're here," Leo said, pointing ahead.

Our house. Small. One story. Faded blue paint. The lawn needed mowing.

Through the half-open blinds, I could see into the living room. The dining area.

What I saw made my blood run cold.

There were men inside. Five of them. Maybe six.

They weren't family friends.

Leather jackets. Dark jeans. The kind of guys who looked like they solved problems with fists and knives.