Myron kept looking back, reaching toward her desperately.
"Christina! Save me! I can't leave you!"
Watching her parents drag away the man she loved, Christina could barely breathe through the pain.
Her eyes, rimmed red, landed on me as I walked past.
"You!"
She grabbed my collar and yanked me toward her.
"What are you talking about?"
Her grip knocked against my right hand. I sucked in a sharp breath from the pain. She bared her teeth.
"You just love running to my parents, don't you? Love being jealous? Do you have any idea that Myron's parents just died? He needs someone by his side right now! If I hadn't been there for him, he would've thrown himself in the river! You'd let someone die just because you're jealous?"
She shoved me to the ground. Her chest heaved as she made a gesture toward someone in the crowd.
"Do it!"
The man from the alley—the one who'd tried to assault me—flickered through the sea of faces.
On the big screen nearby, the "Good Luck on Your Exam!" message vanished. In its place were the photos taken of me in that alley.
The originals had clearly shown me as the victim, beaten and cornered.
But these weren't the originals.