Chapter 3
The next morning, Pamela waited early on the school route.
When Scott appeared, she quickly offered yesterday’s class notes.
“You skipped class yesterday. I organized these notes for you.”
Scott halted mid-step and took them.
Seeing him accept, Pamela sighed in relief.
But then she watched him light the notebook corner with a lighter!
Flames instantly leaped up.
He tossed it aside like trash.
Scott sneered: “You think I still want the same college as you?”
Pamela froze.
They’d once promised to attend university together. Before the incident, Scott-who hated studying-had worked to- ward that goal.
Now that promise felt like another lifetime.
Suppressing chest pain, Pamela explained: “I thought… even for your mom—”
She trailed off under Scott’s icy glare.
Scott lit a cigarette, laughing through smoke.
“My mom?
She’s in a mental hospital now, lost in denial about Dad’s death. Pamela, whose fault is that?”
His casual tone stabbed Pamela’s heart like knives.
She turned pale: “I’m sorry…”
Even if the case reopened and cleared his dad’s name,
she’d never repay this lifetime’s debt to him and his family.
Scott ignored her, stepped over the charred notebook, and left.
Back at school,
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Chapter 3
200 IVoucherS
Scott’s empty seat meant he’d skipped again.
A classmate mocked: “Scott ditches school to avoid you. You killed his dad yet parade around him-disgusting.”
The words struck Pamela like thunder.
Maybe they were right-she shouldn’t be here.
After all, she had no future.
During break, Pamela texted Scott: [If you hate seeing me, I’ll vanish. Just don’t throw away your future.]
Scott still didn’t reply.
By afternoon, he appeared.
Through the crowd, Pamela saw fresh bruises on his face but breathed easier.
During class photos, she instinctively moved toward Scott but stopped.
They’d stood together in every kindergarten, elementary, and middle school picture.
Scott had once boasted: “High school, college, every photo of yours-I’ll always be by your side!”
Now Pamela stood front-row far left, Scott back-row far right.
They bookended the class, oceans apart.
This graduation photo would be their last together.
After group shots, classmates swarmed Scott for selfies.
Pamela didn’t approach to embarrass herself.
Pamela knew she’d lost the right to take photos with Scott.
She waited until a photographer became available before approaching him softly, “Sir, could you… take a portrait of me alone?”
It occurred to her that she still lacked a proper funeral portrait.
After learning she wouldn’t live past a month, Pamela had asked her mother about taking memorial photos, only to be met with furious refusal over the bad omen.
Still, she thought she should have one taken-at least she didn’t look too terrible now.
The photographer agreed.
After the session, Pamela selected a satisfactory shot: “Sir, please develop this one. 8×10 inches.”
The photographer froze. “Young lady, that size is only for… funeral portraits. It’s bad luck.”
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Pamela offered a pale smile. “Yes, that’s exactly what I need it for.”
Scott’s icy voice cut through the air behind her-
“What nonsense are you spouting now?
Funeral portrait?”
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