My Anti-hero Fairy System

Max's grin faltered briefly, but he quickly recovered, letting out a chuckle as he swung the gate open. "Sorry, Ma'am. Sorry," he said, stepping aside to let the SUV roll past.

Cara turned her head toward the window, her expression indifferent as Arlene navigated onto the main road.

"That was rude of you," Arlene said, her hands steady on the wheel. "The poor boy was just trying to be playful."

Cara shrugged, her tone even. "I just asked him a question, Mom. How is that rude?"

"It's not so much what you said, but how you said it. There's this... coldness in your tone." Arlene spared her a quick glance before focusing back on the road. "The Cara I know would have thrown back a playful jab—something about his muscles not being big enough or teasing him about his ego. You and Max are friends."

For a brief moment, Cara almost felt a pang of guilt. But the memory of Max's thoughts as he flirted with her surged into her mind thoughts vivid and explicit. Max didn't see her as a friend; he, like Travis, wants to bang Cara's brains out. Press her against the wall as he rammed into her aggressively, that is what he wants. His fantasies were graphic and unapologetic, filled with lust. Sylvester, still firmly in control of this body, knew that would never happen.

Cara inhaled deeply, offering an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry if I came off as rude. I just... don't remember being friends with him. Maybe that memory will come back to me eventually, but until then, I'll try to be cordial."

"That's good to hear," Arlene said, her tone softening. "But I think you should apologize to him when you get back home."

"Seriously? Is that really necessary?" Cara asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Arlene replied firmly. "Max isn't just the guy who mans the gate. He is family."

Cara sighed and nodded. "Okay, I'll apologize."

The SUV fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the faint hum of the engine. After a few moments, Cara spoke again. "Mom, why was Rudy so insistent that I see Dr. Elwes?"

Arlene's expression tightened slightly. "He's the family doctor. He's excellent at what he does, and most importantly, we can trust him to keep this... situation confidential. Rudy can't afford any more scandals right now."

Cara tilted her head, intrigued. "Scandals? What scandals?"

Arlene sighed, her voice lowering. "Some women accused him of sexual assault, but they recanted their statements and dropped the charges. Rudy's a good, noble man. He isn't capable of doing something like that. It's just his opponents trying to smear his name for political gain."

Cara couldn't hold back a small chuckle. Arlene caught it immediately. "What's funny?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

"Nothing," Cara replied quickly, suppressing a smirk. "I just remembered a funny skit I saw online."

As Cara discreetly read Arlene's mind, she realized her mother truly believed Rudy was an honorable man. She had no doubts, no second thoughts—just unshakable loyalty. The thought struck Cara as both endearing and incredibly naive.

To Sylvester, Arlene was the only person in this new world who seemed genuinely pure-hearted. Every time he glimpsed into her thoughts, he found no malice, no hidden agenda—just kindness and love. It was both refreshing and heartbreaking.

"I know you don't like him," Arlene said, her voice softening with emotion. "But Rudy is a good man. You need to let go of this idea that he's trying to replace your father. No one could ever replace your father."

Her conviction was so earnest that, for a fleeting moment, Sylvester almost believed her. But he knew better. In the short time he'd been in this world, Rudy's actions and thoughts had painted a very different picture.

Cara leaned back in her seat, saying nothing. Her mother's unwavering faith in Rudy only strengthened her resolve to dig into the man's secrets.

—---

In Dr. Elwes's office, Cara and Arlene sat side by side, waiting for the doctor to join them. Cara's eyes wandered around the room, taking in the sterile yet inviting decor. Her gaze paused on a framed certificate on the wall that read, *"Dr. Clayton Elwes, PhD, Family Medicine, Johns Hopkins University."* The pristine plaque seemed out of place in the cozy office, almost too polished to belong in the otherwise lived-in space.

The minutes ticked by. Ten had passed before the door finally opened, and Dr. Elwes stepped in. He was an older man, likely in his late sixties, with a full head of silver hair that gave him a distinguished air. His blue eyes were magnified by thick glasses, which perched slightly crooked on his nose. However, what caught Cara's attention wasn't his appearance but his scent—it was damp and unsettling, like a wet dog. Oddly, Arlene, who immediately rose to hug him, didn't seem to notice the peculiar odor at all.

"Dr. Elwes, it's so good to see you," Arlene said warmly, embracing him.

Dr. Elwes nodded and smiled, his expression kind yet slightly strained as he took a seat across from them. "Wow, I must admit, I'm genuinely shocked to see you, Cara. This—this is nothing short of a miracle," he said, his voice filled with a cautious sort of wonder.

"I'm guessing you're referring to the fact that I'm alive?" Cara asked, trying to focus on his words but distracted by the overpowering smell emanating from him.

"Yes," he confirmed, adjusting his glasses. "When I checked your pulse yesterday, you were… gone. I did everything I could, but there was nothing. And now here you are." He struggled to contain his excitement, his hands fidgeting as he spoke.

"It truly is a miracle," Arlene interjected, her voice filled with gratitude. "Having my daughter back is more than I could have hoped for."

Cara, still distracted, decided to delve deeper into Dr. Elwes's thoughts. She probed his mind, searching for anything unusual. Yet his surface thoughts were mundane—he seemed preoccupied with his estranged son, a relationship he regretted neglecting.

Dr. Elwes cleared his throat, snapping Cara's attention back to him. "I assume you're here for a full check-up? To understand what happened and ensure there are no lingering issues?"

Arlene nodded, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Yes, exactly. And also to understand why she's lost some of her memories. Is there a way to recover them?"

"Memory loss? Hmm, that's unusual," Dr. Elwes said, leaning back in his chair thoughtfully. "It's not a common side effect for overdose cases, but we'll run some tests and see what we can uncover."

As he spoke, the wet-dog smell became more intense for Cara, almost unbearable. Unable to ignore it any longer, she blurted out, "Is there a wet dog in here or somewhere close by?"

Dr. Elwes froze mid-thought, his eyes snapping to hers with a sharpness that hadn't been there before. His gaze carried a flicker of something—fear, perhaps?

"No," he said slowly, his tone carefully measured. "This is a medical office, not a veterinarian's clinic."

The response was calm, but Cara didn't miss the way his knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of his desk. His reaction, so disproportionate to the question, sent alarm bells ringing in her mind. There was something off about him.

Cara tried to read his mind again, but this time his thoughts were lightning-fast, darting in and out of focus like fireflies. It was almost as though he were deliberately concealing something, making it impossible for her to grasp anything concrete.

"Arlene," Dr. Elwes said suddenly, turning his attention to her, "would you mind stepping out for a moment? I'd like a word with the patient in private."

Arlene hesitated, glancing between her daughter and the doctor. "Of course," she said at last, her tone reluctant. "Cara, you're in good hands." She gave her daughter a reassuring smile before exiting the office, leaving the door clicking softly shut behind her.

Dr. Elwes stood from his chair, removing his glasses and placing them carefully on the desk. He approached Cara slowly, his movements deliberate. His piercing blue eyes locked onto hers, no longer softened by the magnification of his lenses.

"I guess you've forgotten what we talked about last time, Cara," he said, his voice low and edged with something that sent a chill down her spine.