Day three started the same as day two.
The Maybach picked me up at 2:45 PM. The silent driver nodded at me through the rearview mirror. The twenty-minute drive felt shorter now that I knew what to expect.
What I didn't expect was Selene's car already parked in the circular driveway when we arrived.
A sleek black Tesla. Personalised plates that read ROWAN 1.
She was home early.
The driver opened my door without comment, and I climbed out, my backpack slung over one shoulder. The front door opened before I could knock.
Selene stood in the doorway.
She was wearing a black pencil skirt and a white blouse. Her platinum blonde hair was pulled back in the same severe style as it had been on the first day we met. She looked like she'd walked straight out of a board meeting.
Which she probably had.
"Elias." Her voice was cool. Professional. "You're on time."
"Always."
"Good. Come in." She stepped aside, and I walked past her into thsstoodggsignallingggggg
The house smelled different today. Coffee. Expensive perfume. Something else I couldn't identify.
"Aurelia is in the library," Selene said, closing the door behind me. "But before you start, I'd like a word in my office."
My stomach tightened. "Is something wrong?"
"Not at all. Just a check-in." She started walking, and I followed her up the stairs to the second floor.
Her office looked exactly the same as it had three days ago. Minimalist. Cold. The kind of space designed to intimidate.
She sat behind her desk and gestured to the chair across from her.
I sat.
"Marcus tells me the first two sessions went well," Selene said, folding her hands on the desk. "Aurelia hasn't complained, which is unusual. Typically, by day three, she's found at least five reasons why her new tutor is incompetent."
"She's a good student," I said carefully. "Smart. Focused."
"She's more than smart. She's brilliant." Selene's green eyes locked onto mine. "But brilliance without guidance is just wasted potential. That's why you're here."
"I understand."
"Do you?" She leaned forward slightly. "Because I need to be very clear about something, Elias. My daughter has never had a normal life. No school dances. No Friday night football games. No teenage rebellion or first boyfriends. I've kept her world small and controlled because the alternative is dangerous."
"Dangerous how?"
"People see a young, intelligent girl with a trust fund, and they see opportunity. They see something to exploit." Her voice hardened. "I've spent eighteen years making sure no one gets close enough to hurt her. And I will continue to do that, no matter what it takes."
I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing.
Selene studied me for a long moment.
"You're different from the others," she said finally. "You don't fawn. You don't try to impress me. You're just... here. Doing the job."
"That's what you're paying me for."
"Yes. But I've learned that money doesn't always guarantee loyalty. Or discretion." She opened a drawer and pulled out another envelope. This one was thicker than the first. "Your second week's payment. In advance, as promised."
She slid it across the desk.
I picked it up. Five hundred-dollar bills, just like last time.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Earn it." She stood, signalling the meeting was over. "One more thing."
"What?"
"Aurelia is starting to warm to you. I can tell. She talks about the sessions at dinner. She asks questions about coding problems even when you're not here." Selene walked around the desk, stopping directly in front of me. "That's good. It means you're effective. But it also means you need to be careful."
"Careful of what?"
"Of forgetting why you're here." Her voice dropped to something quieter. Something almost dangerous. "You're not her friend, Elias. You're her tutor. The moment you start blurring those lines, this arrangement ends. Do you understand?"
"I understand."
"Good." She stepped back, and the cold professional mask slid back into place. "She's waiting for you. Don't keep her."
---
Aurelia was exactly where Selene said she'd be.
The library. Same chair. Same laptop. But this time, she looked up when I entered, and there was something different in her expression.
Relief, maybe.
"You're here," she said.
"Did you think I wouldn't be?"
"My mother was acting strange this morning. I thought maybe she'd fired you."
"Why would she fire me?"
Aurelia closed her laptop. "Because she fires everyone eventually. That's what she does. Finds flaws. Exploits weaknesses. Decides you're not worth the investment anymore."
There was bitterness in her voice. The kind that came from experience.
"She didn't fire me," I said, sitting down across from her. "She just wanted to check in."
"Check in, or threaten you?"
"Both, probably."
Aurelia almost smiled. Almost.
"She's protective. Obsessively so. She thinks everyone's trying to take advantage of me." She opened her laptop again. "Which is ironic, considering she's the one who controls every aspect of my life."
I didn't know how to respond to that, so I changed the subject.
"What are we working on today?"
"Machine learning. Specifically, neural networks." She turned the screen toward me. "I've been reading research papers, but I'm stuck on backpropagation. The math makes sense in theory, but I can't wrap my head around the practical implementation."
"Okay. Let's break it down."
---
We worked for an hour before Aurelia's focus started to slip.
It was subtle at first. Longer pauses between questions. Her gaze drifted toward the window. Her fingers were tapping against the edge of her laptop in an absent rhythm.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
She blinked, as she'd forgotten I was there. "What?"
"You're distracted."
"I'm fine."
"You're not. You've been staring at the same line of code for five minutes."
She closed her laptop with more force than necessary. "Maybe I'm just tired."
"Or maybe something's bothering you."
"I said I'm fine."
"Okay." I leaned back in my chair. "We can take a break if you want."
"I don't want a break." Her voice was sharp. Defensive. "I want to finish this section."
"Then tell me what's actually going on."
She glared at me. "You don't get to psychoanalyse me. You're my tutor, not my therapist."
"I'm not trying to psychoanalyse you. I'm trying to figure out why you're suddenly acting like I'm the enemy."
"Because you're not supposed to care!" The words came out louder than she probably intended. She took a breath, her hands clenched into fists on her lap. "You're supposed to show up, teach me, and leave. That's the deal. That's how this works."
"Who says that's how it has to work?"
"My mother. Every tutor I've ever had. Everyone." She looked away. "People don't stay. They do their job and they leave, and that's fine. That's easier."
"Easier than what?"
"Than letting them matter."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Aurelia's shoulders were tense. Her jaw was tight. She looked like she was holding herself together by sheer force of will.
"I'm not going anywhere," I said quietly.
"You don't know that."
"I know I signed a contract for the semester. And I know your mother is paying me enough that I'm not walking away unless she fires me or you tell me to leave."
"That's not the same as staying."
"Maybe not. But it's a start."
She looked at me then. Really looked at me. Like she was trying to figure out if I was lying.
"You're strange," she said finally.
"How?"
"You're the first person who's ever treated me like I'm normal. Like I'm not some fragile thing that needs to be managed or protected or kept at arm's length." She paused. "It's disorienting."
"Good disorienting or bad disorienting?"
"I don't know yet."
---
We didn't get much work done after that.
Aurelia tried to refocus, but her heart wasn't in it. She kept trailing off mid-sentence, losing her train of thought, staring at her laptop screen like the words didn't make sense anymore.
At 5:30, she closed her laptop for good.
"I think we're done for today," she said.
"Are you sure? We still have half an hour."
"I'm sure." She stood and walked over to the window, her arms crossed over her chest. "Do you ever feel like you're living someone else's life?"
The question caught me off guard.
"What do you mean?"
"Like the person you're supposed to be and the person you actually are don't match. And you don't know which one is real anymore." She didn't turn around. "I've spent my entire life being moulded into what my mother wants. The perfect daughter. The perfect heir. The perfect continuation of her legacy. And I don't even know if I want any of it."
"What do you want?"
"I don't know." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "That's the problem. I've never been allowed to want anything that wasn't already decided for me."
I stood and walked over to where she was standing. Not too close. Just close enough that she knew I was there.
"You're eighteen," I said. "You have time to figure it out."
"Do I? My mother already has my next ten years planned. She has a business degree from her alma mater. Internship at Rowan Industries. Executive training program. By the time I'm thirty, I'll be running the company, and my entire life will be board meetings and hostile takeovers and pretending I don't hate every second of it."
"Then don't do it."
She turned to look at me, and for the first time, I saw real fear in her eyes.
"You don't understand. I can't just walk away. This is my family. My legacy. My responsibility."
"Says who?"
"Everyone."
"Everyone except you."
She stared at me. "You make it sound so simple."
"I'm not saying it's simple. I'm saying it's possible." I shoved my hands in my pockets. "I don't know what it's like to grow up the way you did. But I know what it's like to feel trapped by other people's expectations. And I know that at some point, you have to decide whether you're living for them or for yourself."
"And if I choose myself, I lose everything."
"Maybe. Or maybe you gain somethingng better."
Aurelia turned back to the window. "You sound like a self-help book."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"No." She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not telling me what to do. For just... listening."
"That's what friends do, isn't it?"
She glanced at me, surprised. "I thought you weren't here to be my friend."
"I'm not. But maybe we can make an exception."
This time, she actually smiled.
It was small. Cautious. Like she wasn't sure if she was allowed to.
But it was real.
---
I left the estate at 6 PM.
Selene was waiting in the entrance hall when I came downstairs, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
"How did it go?" she asked.
"Fine. We covered neural networks."
"And?"
"And what?"
"Did she seem distracted? Upset?"
I hesitated. "She had a rough day. But we worked through it."
Selene's eyes narrowed. "What did you talk about?"
"Neural networks. Backpropagation. Machine learning basics."
"Elias." Her voice was sharp. "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying."
"Then why do I get the feeling you're leaving something out?"
I met her gaze. "Because you don't trust anyone. Including me."
For a moment, I thought she was going to fire me on the spot.
But then she smiled. It wasn't a warm smile. It was the smile of someone who'd just confirmed a suspicion.
"You're right," she said. "I don't trust anyone. But I'm starting to think I made the right choice with you."
"Why?"
"Because you're not intimidated by me. Most people are." She walked past me toward her office. "Same time tomorrow, Elias. Don't be late."
---
The drive back to campus felt longer than usual.
I sat in the back of the Maybach, staring out the window, and thought about what Aurelia had said.
*Do you ever feel like you're living someone else's life?*
Yeah. I did.
Every day.
I thought about my father's expectations. My mother's guilt trips. The eviction notice that had set all of this in motion.
I was living the life I had to live, not the life I wanted.
Just like Aurelia.
Maybe that's why I understood her better than I should have.
Maybe that's why I'd broken Selene's rule without even realizing it.
I wasn't supposed to be Aurelia's friend.
But I was starting to think it was too late to stop.