In Everport, the drama, arguments, and fights from Nareigh were a distant memory for Teresa—they no longer mattered. Her only concerns were her work, Michael, and her baby. On weekends, she took her baby to the park to fly kites or to the amusement park, never worrying about encountering anyone she knew. She had been in Everport for a while, and so far, she hadn't seen a single familiar face. Last week, she sent Evelyn an anonymous Mother's Day message, letting her know she was doing okay. She didn't even check for a reply.

Lysander announced that all single teachers had to attend a dinner party—his treat—at a fancy hotel, citing a teacher's birthday. He emphasized that not attending would be considered rude, even calling Teresa out by name, insisting on her presence. She'd already tried to avoid it several times, fearing Lysander would make things difficult if she skipped again.

She went home first to care for Michael, ensuring he was alright and instructing him to stay home and be good. Michael wanted to come along. "I bought you a new toy," she said. "Play with it, and if you get tired, just go to sleep. I'll be watching you through the home camera. If anything happens, call me, and I'll come back as quickly as I can."

"Sorry, sweetie," Teresa pinched his cheek. "It's just a school dinner. I've already said no a few times, but if I skip again, Lysander will be mad. I'll eat fast and come right back, I promise."

"Okay, but bring me back some snacks," Michael said.

"Sure," Teresa replied.

She left the house dressed simply—a white shirt, jeans, flats, and her hair loosely pinned with a hair stick. Arriving at the hotel restaurant, all the teachers were already there. She smiled apologetically and sat next to a female teacher.

Lysander grinned, "You're late, Teresa. You owe us a drink as punishment."

This time, Teresa was prepared. Remembering the baby, she said, "I can't drink. Let me toast with juice instead." She took a sip. Lysander didn't press further.

There were about a dozen teachers. Teresa just wanted to finish eating and go home. However, a karaoke bar was directly across from the restaurant, and the already tipsy Lysander insisted that no one could leave until they had sung a song. He called her out again, preventing her escape. Two female teachers linked arms with her.

One, about Teresa's age, accidentally brushed her arm against Teresa's chest. Her eyes widened. "Wow, Teresa, you look so skinny, but you're actually pretty stacked."

Teresa gave an awkward smile and moved away. Lately, due to the pregnancy, her chest had begun to grow again, as it had with Michael. It had lasted a month and been quite sore. She thought, 'Don't tell me this is a boy again. Two sons would be way too much to handle. I really hope it's a girl this time—someone sweet and smart, who won't give me so much to worry about.'

They soon reached the karaoke bar. Teresa hadn't sung in ages. The large private room was full of flashing, colorful lights that constantly changed, making her feel even more out of place. Lysander ordered fruit plates, beer, and cocktails. A few teachers who could sing well took the microphone first. Teresa clapped politely occasionally but mostly kept her head down, playing with her phone.

Suddenly, a man pushed the microphone toward her. She quickly waved her hands. He said, "Come on, Teresa! You look like you'd have a great singing voice."

"I really can't sing," Teresa insisted.

"If you don't sing, you're missing out. This is the nicest karaoke bar in Everport, and Lysander's paying for it!"

Feeling pressured, Teresa chose a simple song, walked to the front, and focused on the lyrics on the screen. She had sung only one line when a rough, grating voice came from behind her. Lysander grabbed another microphone and stood next to Teresa, singing along.

Teresa felt disgusted. The female teachers behind her looked uncomfortable, but since Lysander was the principal, no one spoke up. While still singing, Lysander picked up a cocktail and offered it to Teresa, his eyes leering—clearly wanting her to drink with him. Teresa waved him off, stating she couldn't handle alcohol. She quietly stepped back, displaying both embarrassment and irritation.

But Lysander was out of line. He put down the microphone, grabbed another glass, and insisted Teresa take it, clearly intending a cringe-worthy linked-arms toast. A few drunk male colleagues egged him on, while the female teachers, wanting to help, could only watch Lysander's shameless behavior and silently feel sorry for Teresa.

When Teresa still refused the drink, Lysander lost his temper and tried to grab her wrist. Teresa pulled away, and the glass fell to the floor, blue cocktail splashing all over her white shirt. One of the female teachers, unable to bear it any longer, quickly handed Teresa her jacket to cover up. Teresa took it, thanking her. "Sorry for the trouble, I need to go to the restroom."

Lysander's annoyance was evident. Already tipsy, his flushed cheeks and greasy forehead shone even brighter as he muttered in frustration, "Seriously, what's there to be shy about? Forget her. Let's just keep drinking."

Hurrying into the restroom, Teresa found herself alone. She removed her colleague's jacket and set it aside, then looked down at her chest. Her white blouse was soaked with blue cocktail. She had tried wiping it with tissues, but it only made it worse—her collar was stained blue.

"Unbelievable," she muttered, silently cursing Lysander.

Spotting soap and hand wash, Teresa took off her blouse, scrubbed the blue stains, and planned to dry it under the hand dryer. Just as she was cleaning her shirt, a stall door behind her swung open. She looked up. In the mirror, she saw the face of the man who had haunted her dreams the previous night. She froze, the soap slipping from her grasp.