Rebirth Into My Second Chance

I woke up with the crack of dawn, buzzing with excitement. Max had mentioned a surgery for me to observe, and I knew these chances were few and far between.

As usual, I grabbed a piece of toast, barely giving the milk in the fridge a second glance. It had been days; it was definitely past its prime.

Just as I was about to take the milk downstairs to the trash, I bumped into Max stepping out of his apartment. The last thing I wanted was for him to see the expired milk - especially since it was a gift from him. I feared it might seem disrespectful, risking a poor evaluation at work or during our practical exams.

But his sharp eyes caught sight of it anyway. "It's gone bad. Get a new one," he said, his words always sparing but his actions generous, handing me a fresh bottle.

The sight of the new milk bottle puzzled me even more. If he wasn't part of the Hilton family, how did he always have a fresh supply?

"And did Claude give you this milk again?" I questioned, my curiosity piqued.

He coughed lightly. "Hmm," was his delayed reply.

I put on a weak smile. He could lie without a flinch.

"Because Claude claims he doesn't know a Max."

Another cough escaped him. "Used a pseudonym for Mr. Hart's business," he confessed, hardly making eye contact.

first, hitting the button for the basement, while I pressed

offer a ride, and I didn't ask. Our relationship

of the elevator, his

headed for the bus stop, leaving the luxury of

milk bottle to an elderly man begging nearby, then boarded the

was just a nuisance, better off handed

bus. I

reaching the

him in

up, his voice cold,

nervous; this was my first hands-on experience with such a

Thankfully had reviewed the

images

had a rough understanding

all. Now I understood

bullets, I realized the single piece of toast I had eaten just wasn't going to