A Seven-Seat Suv Couldn’t Fit Five People. So I Stopped Being Their Tool Chapter 03

A Seven-Seat Suv Couldn’t Fit Five People. So I Stopped Being Their Tool Chapter 03

Ten minutes into the drive, I pieced together the whole truth from Mila’s words.

They hadn’t changed plans last night.

Mila had posted the food festival in another group two days ago.

Dorian: [It’s on the way.]

Dante: [Let’s stop by first.]

Julian said nothing. But went along.

Those conversations happened in a group I didn’t know about.

A trip for five. And a group of four running alongside it.

I didn’t know when that group was made.

But it wasn’t yesterday.

Mila, in the passenger seat, turned and handed me a candy.

“Elara. Rainbow candy from the festival. So good.”

I took it. “Thanks.”

“What’d you eat alone last night?”

“A burger place near the inn.”

“Good?”

“It was okay.”

She nodded. Turned back to the music.

Dante glanced at me in the rearview. Said nothing.

—

At the glass walkway, the line was long.

Staff said at least an hour and a half.

Mila frowned. “That long…”

Dorian checked the entrance. “There’s a fast pass. Pay extra.”

“How much?”

“A hundred eighty each.”

“Five people, nine hundred. Too expensive.”

Julian finally spoke. Quiet.

Mila hesitated. “How about the four of us get fast passes?”

“Elara, aren’t you scared of heights? You can wait below.”

She remembered.

And when she said it, her expression was even concerned.

Dorian jumped in. “Yeah. Elara, you’d just close your eyes the whole time.”

“Waste of money.”

Dante looked at me. Waiting for me to say I’d stay down.

I used to. Every time.

Because at moments like this, they’d find a reasonable way to leave me out.

Not malice. Just convenience.

And I always played along.

But today, I didn’t want to.

“Let’s buy five fast passes.”

Mila blinked.

Dorian raised a brow. “You’re not scared?”

“I am. But I want to try.”

Dante looked at me for a few seconds. Pulled out his phone.

“Fine. Five. I’ll pay.”

—

On the walkway, Mila went first. Bouncing. Taking photos.

Dorian handed her phone cases.

Julian followed. Blocked the wind occasionally.

Dante walked beside me.

In the middle, the fully transparent section.

My legs went weak. I reached for the railing.

My hand found Dante’s arm.

He looked down.

Then gently lifted my hand off his arm. Placed it on the railing.

“Hold the railing. Safer.”

Then he walked two steps forward. To Mila.

“Mila. Don’t get too close to the edge. Dangerous.”

He put his hand out, shielding her side.

The motion was natural.

So natural he probably didn’t realize.

Three seconds ago, he’d moved my hand off him.

I stood there. Wind rushing up through the glass seams.

Below. A deep valley.

High. Empty.

Suddenly I thought. Fear of heights isn’t only about the height.

Sometimes it’s about realizing there’s nothing around you to hold onto.

—

Off the walkway, Mila flipped through photos. Excited.

“Dorian, this one’s amazing.”

“Dante, this one’s so good. Can you edit the color for me?”

She scrolled a long time.

Then looked up at me. A little apologetic.

“Elara. I don’t think we got any of you.”

Dorian, drinking water, offhand.

“She was holding the railing the whole time. How?”

Dante didn’t respond.

Julian flipped through his phone. Held it out.

“I got one.”

On screen: me alone in the middle of the glass walkway.

Both hands on the railing. No one beside me.

Far ahead, the backs of the four of them.

“Composition’s off,” Dorian said, leaning in.

Julian put his phone away. Silent.

Mila patted my shoulder. “It’s fine. We’ll take more tomorrow.”

I looked at her hand. Smiled.

“Okay.”

But I wasn’t sure there’d be a tomorrow.