Claire always felt like she didn’t have any friends.
At this school, the pretty kids hung out with the pretty kids, and the rich kids with the rich kids.
Claire wasn’t pretty, didn’t have money, and had a peculiar personality.
She knew that nobody would like her, so she lived quietly and unobtrusively.
Until a little girl kept coming to her:
"Claire, why do you wear long sleeves in hot weather?"
"Claire, you clearly have a talent for dancing, so why didn’t you participate in the performance when the dance teacher asked you to?"
How annoying.
These stupid questions, none of which she could answer herself.
Claire could only remain silent.
The little girl interpreted her silence as coldness and slunk off, but a few hours later she returned:
"Claire, tell me about conic sections! I’ll buy you snacks!"
Claire: "…"
Actually, the little girl’s situation wasn’t great either.
Her father seemed to be the school’s security guard, and her mother was a cleaner.
It was a bit better than Claire’s own home, but not much.
Not to mention that Claire at least had her grandmother who cared for her, while the little girl’s parents didn’t seem to pay much attention to her.
But the little girl was different. She was likable, and everyone in the class liked her. There was even talk of a rich boyz from the neighboring class pursuing her fiercely.
Claire occasionally would feel a tiny bit of curiosity:
"That rich boy, Cayden, I heard he likes you?"
The little girl, biting her pen while doing math problems, replied, "I don’t want the love of a scoundrel."
In fact, they didn’t interact much, but the little girl seemed to have figured out Claire’s family situation:
"Claire, take this money."
The little girl had to save for a long time just to afford teaching aids.
Claire didn’t know where the little girl had saved this money.
Claire refused to accept it.
She was very poor, but her self-esteem was unbearably strong:
"I haven’t done anything, so I can’t take your money."
This was essentially the sum of their few conversations.
Claire focused solely on her studies, thinking that things would be better once she got into college.
She had excellent grades and a good chance of getting into good university. Even if she didn’t perform at her best, she would still get into a top university.
Then she would be able to earn money, buy medicine for her grandmother, and hang out with the little girl, becoming friends with her.
But one month before the college entrance exam, her father returned with a single sentence:
"Your grandmother isn’t going to make it."
Claire felt chilled to the bone.
Her father, drunk, was talking to himself:
"A disease that can’t be cured will keep costing money."
"The doctor said surgery had only a thirty percent chance of success, so I said we wouldn’t do it."
"Going home would just mean spending more money, so I left her in the hospital corridor."
"Damn, always dragging me down…"
Claire’s ears were ringing. She rummaged through her backpack and found the last bit of money she had saved for her college tuition.
She rushed towards the hospital, determined to save her grandmother, but her father grabbed her:
"Little brat, you still have money?"
"Why didn’t you give it to me when I was being chased and beaten by creditors yesterday?"
Claire struggled desperately.
But she was too thin, her arms and legs as thin as bean sprouts, and she had no strength to fight back.
Her father snatched her money and gave her the worst beating she had ever received:
"Fucking little brat, I gave birth to you, your life is mine."
"If I beat you to death today, you deserve it."
Claire passed out.
When she woke up again, her father had taken the money and gone out drinking.
She rushed to the hospital like a madwoman.
A familiar doctor shook his head sadly at her.
