But even knowing it would happen didn’t stop the sharp, suffocating pain from stabbing through my chest when I finally saw it with my own eyes.
Garland’s POV
Five years ago, Barrett was an underprivileged student I sponsored.
When I went to the school to select a student to support, a crowd of boys and girls rushed over to show off, each desperately sharing the hardships of their lives. Everyone wanted to be chosen as the recipient of the sponsorship.
Everyone except Barrett.
He stood at a distance in a clean white shirt, his sneakers washed so many times they had faded. He looked like a quiet butterfly, staying far away, neither fighting nor begging—just calmly watching.
At that moment, he reminded me of my younger self.
In the end, I chose to send him the stipends to support his studies and living expenses. When he couldn’t find a job, I even kindly recommended him to work at Cherity’s company.
If it hadn’t been for that initial sponsorship… maybe that night would never have happened—the night Cherity was drugged and, by some cruel twist of fate, ended up sleeping with him.