[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-four-of-a-kind":3,"chapter-four-of-a-kind-four-of-a-kind-chapter-16":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Four Of A Kind",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1529710,1985,"Chapter 16: [1.15] One Promise, One Granola Bar, and a Gate to a New World","four-of-a-kind-chapter-16",16,"\u003Cp>\"It’s a personal assistant position. For a family.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What kind of family?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Rich. Very rich.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"How rich?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"’They probably have a helicopter’ rich.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Iris whistled low. \"Wow. Fancy.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Yeah.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Is the family nice?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I thought about Cassidy Valentine’s death glares. Harlow Valentine’s aggressive friendliness. The two sisters I hadn’t even met yet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"They’re... interesting.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"That’s not an answer.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It’s the best answer I have.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She studied me for a long moment. Her brown eyes, so different from my own, were thoughtful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You’re nervous.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’m not nervous.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You always do that thing with your jaw when you’re nervous. The little clench. You’re doing it now.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I consciously unclenched my jaw. \"I’m cautiously optimistic.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"That’s just nervous with extra words.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Iris.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What? I’m your sister. I’m allowed to call you out.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Fine. Maybe I’m a little nervous.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Why?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Because this job could change things.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Iris was quiet for a moment. Then she reached across the table and put her hand on mine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her fingers were small. Warm. The nails were painted a soft purple. She’d done them herself, probably while watching one of her tutorials.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Good things are allowed to happen, Zay.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I know.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Do you? Because sometimes I think you’re waiting for everything to fall apart.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"That’s just practical.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It’s sad.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Same thing.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She squeezed my hand. \"Get the job. Make things easier. And then maybe...\" She hesitated. \"Maybe you could be home more?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The hope in her voice nearly broke me.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"That’s the plan.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Promise?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I don’t make promises I can’t keep.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"That’s a non-answer.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It’s an honest answer.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She sighed. But she was smiling. \"Fine. But you better text me how it goes.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I will.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"And eat lunch. Real lunch. Not vending machine stuff.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’ll try.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"And be nice to them. The rich family.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’m always nice.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You’re nice to ME. You’re sarcastic to everyone else.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Sarcasm is a form of affection.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Sure it is.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I finished my coffee. Checked the clock on the wall. 8:47.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Little over an hour until I need to leave.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I should shower.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You should.\" Iris wrinkled her nose. \"You smell like work.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I stood. Stretched. The eggs sat warm in my stomach. The coffee was working its magic on my brain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Thanks for breakfast, Iris.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Thanks for being here to eat it.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I ruffled her hair as I walked past. She swatted at my hand, but she was grinning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Stop that. I spent ten minutes on this ponytail.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It looks great.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You can’t even see it from that angle.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I have faith.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Faith isn’t the same as visual confirmation.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You’re very philosophical this morning.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’ve been awake for three hours. I’ve had time to think.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Three hours. She woke up at five to make breakfast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Iris...\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Go shower. You’re wasting time.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You didn’t have to wake up early.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I wanted to.\" She turned back to the TV. Sailor Moon was still playing. \"I don’t get to have breakfast with you very often. I wanted it to be good.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I stood there for a moment. Looking at my little sister. \"It was good,\" I said quietly. \"It was really good.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She didn’t turn around. But I saw her ears turn pink.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Yeah, well. Go shower.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I went to shower.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The water was lukewarm. Our heater was temperamental. I’d learned to wash fast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As I stood under the spray, I thought about the interview ahead. The Valentine family. Four identical sisters with four different personalities.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cassidy. The angry one who threatened my life and then stalked me for five hours.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Harlow. The friendly one who offered me snacks and talked like she’d had too much sugar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Vivienne. The perfectionist, apparently. Student council VP. Probably terrifying.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sabrina. The mysterious one. I hadn’t met her yet. Just heard rumors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Four girls. Four potential headaches. One job that could change everything.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I turned off the water. Toweled off. Got dressed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shirt Iris had noticed was a white button-down. My nicest one. I’d bought it at Goodwill two years ago for a school presentation and it had survived surprisingly well.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Black slacks. Black belt. My cleanest sneakers, which I’d scrubbed last night with a toothbrush.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I looked in the bathroom mirror.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not bad. Not rich-person nice. But presentable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My hair was still that awkward two-tone mess. Dark roots, blonde-orange ends. I needed to either commit to dying it again or let it grow out fully.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Later. Add it to the list.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I emerged from the bathroom to find Iris waiting. She looked me up and down with the critical eye of a fashion consultant.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You look good.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Thanks.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The shirt needs a little something though.\" She disappeared into her room. Came back with something in her hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A tie.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not just any tie. A deep blue one with subtle silver threads. Way too nice for anything we could afford.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Where did you get this?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I saved up. Birthday present. For you.\" She held it out. \"I was going to give it to you in November but... you need it more now.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Iris, I can’t take your savings.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It’s a gift. Gifts don’t count as taking.\" She pushed it into my hands. \"Put it on.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This kid.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Thank you.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You can thank me by getting the job.\" She crossed her arms. \"And by buying me dinner when you’re rich.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I won’t be rich.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Richer than now.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"That’s a low bar.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Still counts.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I put on the tie. Let her adjust it because she insisted she’d watched tutorials on proper tie-knotting too. By the time she was done, it looked almost professional.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Perfect.\" She stepped back to admire her work. \"Now you look like someone who belongs at a rich family’s house.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I feel like a waiter.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Waiters make good tips. That’s not an insult.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’ll take it as a compliment.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You should. I meant it as one.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I checked the clock. 9:52.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I need to go.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I know.\" She handed me my bag. I hadn’t even seen her pack it. \"There’s a granola bar in there. For the train. Don’t skip snacks.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Yes mom.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Don’t call me that.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Sorry.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She walked me to the door. The apartment was small. The journey was short. But it felt significant somehow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Text me.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I will.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"And call if you’re going to be late.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I will.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"And don’t let them intimidate you. You’re Isaiah Angelo. You’re the smartest person I know.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You need to meet more people.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’ve met enough.\" She hugged me.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I hugged her back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’ll see you tonight.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You better.\" She pulled away. Wiped her eyes quickly, like she didn’t want me to see. \"Now go. You’ll miss your train.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I opened the door. Stepped into the hallway. Turned back one last time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Iris stood in the doorway, small and fierce and everything good in my world.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hey, Iris?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Yeah?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I love you, idiot.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her face scrunched up. \"I love you too, moron.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The door closed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I headed for the stairs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The walk to the bus stop was quiet. The neighborhood was waking up slowly, Saturday morning laziness settling over the streets.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I thought about the interview. About the Valentine sisters. About the job that could change everything.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ten thousand a month.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That’s what they’re offering. Dr. Reyes confirmed it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ten thousand dollars. For being a personal assistant to four teenage girls.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What’s the catch?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was always a catch. But the catch here seemed obvious: the sisters themselves. Seven previous assistants had quit. Professionals with experience and credentials. They’d lasted weeks at most.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What makes me think I can do better?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I didn’t know. I just knew I had to try.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For Iris. For the scholarship. For the future I keep promising myself I’ll build.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bus arrived. I got on. Found a seat by the window.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Philadelphia rolled past outside. The familiar streets. The familiar faces. The world I’d grown up in, survived in, clawed my way out of.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One more year. One more year and I graduate. Then college. Then a real job. Then a real life.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just hold on a little longer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I pulled out my phone. Opened the text thread with Iris.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>ME: On the bus. Granola bar is good.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>IRIS: told you\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>IRIS: good luck today\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>IRIS: you’re going to be great\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>IRIS: love you idiot\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I smiled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>ME: Love you too.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bus, the train, the subway—it all blurred into one long, humming journey.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By the time I stepped out of the cab onto the Upper West Side, I was standing before a wrought-iron gate that looked like it guarded a fortress.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A small, brass plaque was set into the stone wall. It read, simply:Valentine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I pressed the buzzer.\u003C\u002Fp>",1436,"2026-06-06T06:03:59.713Z",1,"novelbin.me","fbfbf1f8080a95ae4e90a85772700f49714cd1e6255a496fc970037da96c3451","four-of-a-kind-chapter-17","four-of-a-kind-chapter-15",251,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Ffour-of-a-kind-cover.jpg"]