They, of course, didn't know that part of Serie's appearance was due to "Singing Against the Grain" at work.
However, this inadvertently made her "damaged brain" story seem even more plausible.
"No... I really don't need to go to the hospital," Serie took a breath. The adrenaline slowly receded, replaced by a sense of fatigue, making her voice sound a bit airy. "It's just... I'm really tired, and hungry... especially hungry."
This was the absolute truth.
That crazy run earlier felt good, but her physical strength had drained away like a flood through an open sluice gate.
At this moment, Serie was so hungry she could eat a cow. "Is there... any ready-made food at home? Anything will do."
But it was still some time until dinner, and Billy's parents exchanged glances, both seeing difficulty on each other's faces.
They lived comfortably, and their fridge only contained fresh vegetables; there wasn't even any leftover food from the previous night. There really wasn't anything ready to be eaten right away.
Just as they were anxious, the front door suddenly opened.
A blonde, freckled girl, half a head taller than Billy, walked in. She wore a baseball cap and red square-framed glasses, dressed in a fast-food uniform, carrying several meat pies in grease-proof paper bags. The warm steam mixed with the aroma of meat wafted into everyone's noses.
She had just changed her shoes, and her gaze swept over the glaring purplish-black scorch marks on the carpet and floor tiles, her brows slightly furrowed. "Auntie, Billy... did she sneak back again to rummage through things?"
Her tone was a mix of helplessness and understanding.
But when she lifted her head and her eyes met Serie at the dining table, the meat pies in her hand almost dropped to the floor.
Fortunately, Serie, like a hungry wolf pouncing, lowered herself and deftly scooped up those life-saving boxes of meat pies.
As soon as the boxes were in her hands, she didn't hesitate, immediately tearing one open and stuffing the still-hot pie into her mouth. Her cheeks instantly puffed out, and she mumbled indistinctly, "Mom... you guys even ordered takeout? You... you really know me!"
"Take... takeout?" The blonde girl seemed burned by those words, laughing in exasperation. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I didn't think a coward like you would dare to come back, or dare to see me? I truly underestimated your shamelessness."
Serie was a bit bewildered by the sudden barrage of insults. What did this delivery person mean? Had she eaten gunpowder?
However, her chewing didn't stop, her cheeks still puffing in and out.
Billy's parents saw this scene and didn't stop the blonde girl's scolding. Instead, they quietly advised Serie, "Billy, you... you really don't recognize her? This is Lyley! You two used to be..."
Their words were cut off by a cold laugh from Lyley, "Stop! Auntie, I'm just a delivery person now."
After saying that, she walked a few steps to the other end of the dining table, pulled out a chair, and sat down with a "clunk." Leaning her elbows on the table, she stared intently at Serie.
That resentful gaze made Serie a little uneasy, but she was truly starving, so she could only endure the intense stare and bury her head in eating the meat pie.
Billy's parents took the opportunity to inform Lyley about Billy's amnesia, causing her face to instantly turn pale.
She looked as if she had heard the most absurd joke in the world, her lips twitching twice.
She wanted to laugh, but only managed to force out an arc that looked worse than crying: "...Forgot?"
Her voice was as dry as sandpaper, "All... all those things between us, and later... all those messy accounts... she doesn't remember any of it?"
She suddenly took a sharp breath, her chest heaving violently, as if trying to suppress something about to burst out.
The next second, she suddenly stood up and rushed into the bathroom without looking back, slamming the door shut with a "bang."
Soon, a few muffled whimpers and sobs could be heard from behind the door, like a wounded small animal.
Billy's parents listened, looking at each other, their faces filled with embarrassment and helplessness.
Then they looked at the person opposite—goodness, the person in question, Serie, had just finished the last bite of pie, letting out a satisfied, loud burp, and even licking the grease from her fingertips, still wanting more.
She cleared her throat, wiped her mouth with a tissue, and finally put on a serious face, ready to "explain the situation": "Um... Dad, Mom, here's what happened..."
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