Chapter 7
Scott Brown’s expression flickered with shock before settling back into composure.
He suppressed the panic rising in his chest, clearly refusing to believe Pamela Garcia had died ten years ago.
“How could she be dead? You must have the wrong person.”
His classmates exchanged uneasy glances, the room falling silent.
Watching their hesitant reactions, Scott swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
Finally, someone spoke softly: “When Pamela died, they said her mom cried herself into the hospital while canceling her household registration at the police station.”
Scott’s hand clenched involuntarily, his grip tightening until the wineglass nearly shattered.
His throat tightened as he lowered his gaze, masking the turmoil-and a flicker of anger-in his eyes.
“Nonsense!
Stop joking around.”
He downed the last of his drink and set the glass aside. “I’m tired. Heading out early-enjoy the rest.”
A reunion after years apart, only to hear such madness.
With that, Scott strode out of the private room like he was escaping.
Outside his untouched home after a decade away, his eyes drifted toward the pitch-dark house across the street.
Pamela’s home.
Peering through the gate, he saw dust blanketing the courtyard, rust coating the doorknob.
A clear sign of abandonment.
His brow furrowed. After a pause, he stepped forward and knocked.
No answer came, just as he’d expected.
Scott stared at the glass window where Pamela used to wave at him, her face bright.
Then he turned and entered his own house.
A dim lamp lit the living room as Scott sank onto the sofa, the silence so deep he could hear his own breaths.
Beneath the dust covers draped over furniture, everything remained frozen in time.
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11:51
Chapter 7
Scott pulled out his phone, fingers tapping a memorized sequence.
He dialed Pamela’s number-unused for ten years but etched in his mind.
A robotic voice answered coldly:
“The number you have dialed is not in service… ”
Scott’s eyes trembled. His grip tightened on the phone as dread pooled in his chest.
Ten years had passed. Maybe she’d just changed her number.
He logged into his long-dormant Instagram account.
[Pamela, is this some kind of joke?]
[Why weren’t you at the reunion?]
[Why do they all say you’re dead?]
[I’m not buying this… If you see this, reply.]
[I’ll wait.]
The messages vanished into the void, unanswered.
Then Mom Rachel called.
Her concerned voice filled the line: “Scott, did you make it to Blood Pack?
Don’t forget to tidy up the house…”
Scott glanced around, suddenly aware of dust tickling his nostrils.
After hanging up, he peeled off the dust covers one by one.
In his bedroom, bookshelves overflowed with novels and comics.
As he yanked off the last cover, graduation photos stared back at him—
Every single one, from kindergarten through high school, perfectly preserved.
Scott opened these graduation photos amidst swirling dust.
In kindergarten, he and Pamela stood side by side, their small figures with innocent, adorable smiles.
Until junior high graduation, they always stood next to each other.
Only in high school were they separated by the entire class, standing far apart.
He never would have thought that this high school graduation photo would be their last photo together…
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It was also at this moment that he realized Pamela’s face was already so pale at that time.
Memories resurfaced after ten years.
Scott remembered that on the day of taking the graduation photo, she mentioned a funeral portrait…
At this moment, his heart felt as if it was being torn apart, aching.
No, impossible!
This must all be a lie!
Suddenly, Scott’s brow furrowed, and as if remembering something, he strode toward the living room!
Amidst a flurry of rummaging through boxes and cabinets.
Scott finally found the package that Anna had sent him from the ancestral home ten years ago!
Fine dust gently rose from the package.
With trembling hands, he opened the package.
Inside lay an old, thick diary filled with writing, and an old version memory card.
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Chapter U
