Roselle was waking up the m in her bed, slowly getting up to anruesome day ahead. Slowly, she did some stretg of her arms and did a yawn. Roselle made an effort to doing her normal routi she was still caught up in thoughts about Jess from st night.

  Mrs. Magenta was already i, cooking for that day. Jess was nowhere in sight.

  “Good m, Mom,” Roselle greeted her mother with a smile.

  “Good m, dear,” Mrs. Magenta replied, returning the smile. “How did you sleep?”

  “I slept well,” Roselle replied, though her thoughts returo Jess. “Mom, about Jess...”

  Jess smugly ehe kit long before Roselle could finish her sentence. She was alluring and fident. She turned on a wicked charm for Roselle and her mother, fshing them a fertile smile.

  “Good m, beautiful dies,” Jess greeted them with a hint of flirtatiousness. “I hope you have something delicious cooking in here.”

  Mrs. Magenta watched the iion with a skeptical gaze, while Roselle tried to find the right words to address the situation.

  “M,” Roselle mumbled out.

  Jess took a seat at the kit table. She crossed her legs and gave Roselle a pyful wink. “Don’t mind me, hmm? Just here for the pany…and, of course, a taste of that delicious cooking, Mrs. Magenta.”

  Mrs. Magenta replied, “Of course, dear. Breakfast will be ready shortly.”

  While waiting for their food, Jess leaned slightly closer to Roselle. “Oh Roselle, You look all fresh and cute in the m. It’s just so irresistible.”

  Roselle blushed at the pliment. Mrs. Magenta observed this iion with a watchful eye, not yet speakihoughts.

  “Thank you, Jess,” Roselle replied. “You’re quite charming yourself.”

  Mrs. Magenta pced three Sunday paacks onto the kit table. They were pced equally, garnished with a pat of butter and syrup that shined in the early sun. There were fresh fruit in the form of strawberries, blueberries, and bananas that were around the edges to dispy an artistic touch.

  “Breakfast is served,” Mrs. Magenta announced in a chef’s tone. Jess’s eyes wide the sight of the delicious breakfast. She grinned appreciatively. “Wow, Mrs. Magenta, this looks incredible! You really know how to make a m special.”

  “Oh, just so you know,” she said, “I’m not Mrs. Magenta today. Today, you call me Mrs. Game.”

  Jess’s eyebrows shot up in fusion. “Mrs. Game? What’s the story behind that?”

  Roselle giggled softly. “Mom loves to cook on Sundays so much that she gave herself a chef ’s part of her fun Sunday tradition.”

  Jess looked from Roselle tame, still trying to process the hat’s... definitely a unique name for a chef. I’ve never heard of anyone calling themselves that before.”

  Mrs. Game ughed lightly. “Well, it’s all in good fun. And it seems to make the cooking experience a bit more special for us.”

  Roselle nodded in agreement. “Exactly. It’s part of our Sunday ritual.”

  Jess shook her head, still smiling in disbelief. “I have to say, this is a first for me. I’ve had breakfast with a lot of people, but never with someone who has their own chef name. I guess today’s going to be full of surprises.”

  With that, everyoarted serving themselves. Roselle dug in, as well as Jess. After a while, Roselle decided to turn to jess and ask, “So, Jess, do you have any pns for today? It’s Sunday after all… Maybe you’d like to explore the neighborhood or something?”

  Jess chuckled and pyfully twirled a strand of her hair. “Oh, Roselle, as much as I’d love to explore, I have other pns today…”

  Roselle was finishi bite of pancakes. Jess leaned in close to her with a mischevious look in her eye. “I could think of nothier than spending the day with you. Maybe we could take a walk or find something fun to do together?”

  Before Roselle could respond, Mrs. Game cleared her throat, taking on a stern tone. “Jess, I think we o talk.”

  Jess looked up, slightly startled but maintaining her fident demeanor. “Oh? What’s up, Mrs. Game?”

  “Jess, I must be ho. I’ve noticed how you’ve been iing with Roselle this m. While I uand you’re trying to be friendly, I want to make sure you respect boundaries ahings appropriate.”

  Jess gave a charming smile but nodded in agreement. “Of course, Mrs. Game. I apologize if I’ve made you unfortable.”

  After breakfast, Roselle decided to take a rexing bath, hoping that the warm water would help clear her thoughts. She filled the bathtub and undressed. Wheepped into the bath, she thought about tasks she o tackle that day.

  Sunday had arrived, and there was so mu her to-do list. She o find more information about Michigo, who seemed to have vanished into thin air. The abrupt message from KarateSpirit23, blog her, had left her perplexed and ed.

  Roselle thought about all the friends she had met and the mysteries surrounding their lives. Risebelle’s dition was grave thanks to Rosebelle’s involvement. Amidst all this, she now has to deal with the passionate flirting from Jess. The Sunday to-do list seemed overwhelming, and she didn’t even know where to begin.

  While p her tasks, she was suddenly taken by surprise when she heard the bathroom door creak open. She yelped and covered herself with the bathwater.

  Jess stepped into the bathroom and undressed. “Oh, Roselle, you look simply radiant even ih. I couldn’t resist joining you.”

  Roselle blushed furiously and stammered, “Jess, what are you doing? Get out! I’m ih!”

  Before anything further could happen, Mrs. Game stormed in with a sweet smile on her face. “Roselle, dear, I brought you some fresh towels,” she said in a cheerful tone. Uh oh. Roselle’s eyes widened in shock.

  “M-Mom, it’s not what it looks like! Jess just walked in, and I was tellio get out!”

  Mrs. Game, however, seemed to have a different interpretation of the situation. Her face flushed with rage. She pointed a fi Jess with anger.

  “You, young dy, get out of my daughter’s bathroom this instant!”

  Jess quickly backed out of the bathroom.

  “Whoopsie,” Jess said while retreating. Roselle sighed deeply.

  After her bath, Roselle ed herself in a towel and joined her mother in the living room. Mrs.Game patted her daughter’s head affeately, a warm smile on her face.

  “Feeling refreshed, sweetheart?” she asked while setting on the couch beside Roselle.

  Roselle nodded, but her thoughts quickly turo the enter with Jess. She hesitated for a moment, then said, “Mom, I don’t know how to feel about Jess. She’s... different. She makes me feel strange.”

  Mrs. Game studied her daughter with a thoughtful look. “Different in what way, dear?”

  Roselle struggled to find the right words. “She’s….umm… she says things that make me unfortable, but she also helped us when we . I ’t really figure her out.”

  Mrs. Game’s face softeo Roselle’s words. She ed an arm around her daughter, fort. “Roselle, it’s possible that Jess only knows one way of life. She’s had a different upbringing and experiences from you. You mentiohat she cims to have no parents, right?”

  Roselle nodded. “Yeah, she did mention that. I guess it’s hard for her to know how to i with others in a way that’s... appropriate.”

  Mrs. Game nodded. “Exactly. Jess might not uand boundaries the way you do. It doesn’t excuse her behavior, but it does expin why she might act the way she does. It’s important to set clear boundaries and unicate them to her. If she respects you, she’ll learn to respect those boundaries.”

  Roselle sighed. She felt a bit better after talking to her mother. “Thanks, Mom. I just don’t know how to deal with everything right now. Between Michigo, Risebelle, and now Jess, it’s all so overwhelming.”

  Mrs. Game squeezed her shoulder gently. “Take it oep at a time, dear. Focus on what you haoday. Maybe start by trying to find more information about what happened with Michigo. As for Jess, keep your iions respectful and firm. And remember, you always e to me if you need help or advice.”

  Roselle stood in front of her wardrobe, thinking of what to wear. She looked at her sunflower dress—her usual life jacket whenever she needed a cheerful boost—but today, she wao do something different.

  She sidered for a moment and theled on a light blue skirt and white blouse. From her imagination, it was easy but det enough to suit anywhere. She quickly dressed iire ao the mirror. She leased that she had worn just the right thing.

  Having finalised her dress, she picked her handbag and checked the phone for messages. Then she locked the door a, heading outside.

  As Roselle strolled dowreets, her phone began to vibrate with texts. She drew it out of her bag and saw that Hashta had sent a series of messages to her:

  Hashta: Hey Roselle! Wanna hang out at the Arcade today?

  Roselle: Hashta, the Arcade is closed on Sundays.

  There was a momentary pause before Hashta responded.

  Hashta: What? It’s Sunday?

  Roselle: Of course, otherwise, we’d be in school.

  Another pause, and then:

  Hashta: No wonder nobody showed up at school today!

  Roselle giggled “Ohhh, Silly Hashta…”

  Roselle: Wait a minute, Hashta… did you actually go to school today?

  Hashta: Yeah... I was w why it was so empty. I thought there ecial holiday or something.

  Roselle ughed out loud, attrag a few curious gnces from passersby.

  Roselle: Oh, Hashta, you’re hirious. How did you not realize?

  Hashta: Guess I was too focused on my game st night and lost track of the days.

  Roselle: Well, sihe Arcade is closed, do you want to meet up somewhere else? Maybe the park?

  Hashta: Sure, the park sounds good. I’ll see you there in 20 minutes!

  Roselle: See you soon!

  Roselle’s ph with an ining call.

  ‘Unknown Id’.

  She answered it, curious about who might be oher end.

  “Hello?” Roselle greeted.

  A voice devoid of life filled spoke oher end. “Roselle... you know the ohey call KarateSpirit23, don’t you?”

  Roselle felt a drumming in her chest from that lifeless tone. “Y-Yes, I do. Who are you, and what do you want?”

  “Who I am is not important. What’s important, though, is that I have your friend, Michigo. I’ve been using her online identity, KarateSpirit23.”

  Roselle stammered. “Michigo? How. How do you have her? What do you want from me?”

  “If you want to see her again, you’ll do as I say. Here is what yoing to do: You will cut all ties with the Detective’s Club, and that girl, Jess, who’s staying over at your house, you will kick her out.”

  Roselle widened her eyes in shock. “How did you find out about the Detective’s Club and Jess? Who the heck are you?”

  “That does not you. You have until 6 o’clock tonight. At that time, you will ehe chatroom and say you hate the Detective’s Club, and you want nothing to do with the Detective’s Club. If you do, maybe I just might sider releasing your friend. If not. Well, I don’t think I have to spell out the sequences.”

  Roselle went baside. She found her mother and began to say, “Mother.” then the words faltered. Mrs. Magenta could read her daughter’s face like a book. She had that look that was nearly ready to burst into tears.

  “Roselle,” Mrs. Magenta said gently, “I know something is wrong just by looking at you. Is this about Michigo?”

  Roselle sighed and unched into an expnation of what was happening. Mrs. Magenta listened ily. When Roselle had finished, her mhed and nodded, “Roselle, it seems like we have no choice but to agree to these demands.,,”

  Roselle’s heart sank at the thought. She knew her mother was right, but the idea of cutting ties with the Detective’s Club and kig Jess out felt wrong. The Detective’s Club was like a sed family to her, and Jess, despite her quirks was a friend.

  “What…am I going to do now?”