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Chapter 6

Author: Washing Wheat
"Impossible." My mother stared at me, her eyes narrowing inch by inch. "Your dad is the best at pretending to be pitiful. How could he—"

I finished her sentence for her, "How could he really die? In your eyes, is he always putting on an act? "

Mr. Russell's expression had changed as well. He immediately stood up to smooth things over. "Jordan, calm down first. Maybe you're just in a very bad mood, so you spoke a little too harshly. If your dad is really having a hard time now, we can help; there's no need to make a scene."

I did not even look at him. At this point, he was still hinting that my dad was not dead and was just using it as an opportunity to pester them.

I took out the withdrawal application from my backpack and spread it out on the table. I had folded the paper so many times that the corners were frayed, but the words on it were still very clear.

[Due to the death of my guardian, I'm unable to continue bearing the school expenses. I'm applying for withdrawal from school.]

My mother looked down to read them, and her pupils immediately constricted.

I stared at her, my voice strangely calm. "After Dad died, I handled his funeral all by myself. What were you doing at the time? You were paving the way for Olivia, accompanying Mr. Russell, and being annoyed that Dad and I were in your way."

My eyes finally welled up at this point, but I still held back my tears. "He was still finding excuses for you before he died. He said maybe you were really busy or maybe Mr. Russell blocked the news from reaching you. Even at the very end of his life, he still said he would take me to find you and ask about that card once he recovered, but he never made it."

My mother gulped, her breathing becoming visibly erratic. The next second, she said in a deep voice, "I want to see your dad."

I looked at her and suddenly felt that she was being utterly ridiculous. Even after all this, she still did not believe it. She would rather believe my dad was hiding and putting on an act than admit that she had truly driven him to death.

I put away the withdrawal application and turned to leave. "Fine. Didn't you want to see him?"

I did not say another word the whole way and went straight out of the school gate.

My mother immediately chased after me, saying it was impossible and that she had to ask him face-to-face.

Mr. Russell's face was pale, but he could only follow behind with Olivia in tow.

We took a bus before walking into the old alleyways of the old town. Mr. Russell was wearing leather shoes and walked slowly while frowning all the way. Olivia, who had never been to a place like this before, followed silently, her head bowed even lower.

Finally, I stopped in front of a cramped apartment block. The stairwell was narrow and dark, the paint was peeling, and the air was damp and musty. I took out my key and opened the door.

The door creaked open, revealing the unit—an old table, a bed, a lamp with a yellowish glow. In the corner was a neatly arranged memorial table. On it were flowers and candles, with a memorial portrait of my dad in the center.

My mother stood in the doorway. She froze the moment her gaze fell upon the portrait, and the color drained from her face, bit by bit. Only at this moment did she truly see with her own eyes that my dad was really dead.

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    The day I returned to school was a sunny day.Many people thought my mother would send me to the international program or even transfer me to a better school, but I did not. I went back to my usual regular program.When I walked into the classroom, there was a moment of silence.Some people looked up at me before quickly lowering their heads. I ignored them, carried my schoolbag to my seat, and sat down. The desk had been replaced with a new one. The chalk writings that called me ungrateful and jealous of my stepsister were long gone.Daisy stood at the front of the classroom, glanced at me, and said nothing. She simply tapped the desk. "Let's start the morning study."The sound of pages being flipped open echoed repeatedly.I lowered my head and opened the workbook. The sunlight outside fell on the pages. When the pen tip touched the paper, I suddenly felt a sense of stability that I had not experienced for a long time.After school, I went to the hospital as scheduled to have

  • All I Could See Was Frost   Chapter 11

    Outside the window, children were running downstairs, their shouts rising and falling. I looked at the documents on the table and suddenly remembered what my dad said to me before his passing.He said, "Jordan, don't drop out of school. You have to keep going and live for yourself."I closed my eyes and put the two documents into my schoolbag.I thought things would be over by now, but I never expected Mr. Russell to be insane enough to come to me.…That night, I was alone in the room, sorting out the last box of books. Suddenly, the door was forcefully pushed open from the outside. The door panel hit the wall, making a dull thud. When I turned around, I saw Mr. Russell rushing in.His hair was messy, his eyes were bloodshot, and he was even holding a fruit knife. Mr. Russell had gone completely out of control.He stared at me and scolded, "It's all your fault! If you hadn't refused to behave yourself, things wouldn't have turned out like this! I never thought that even having

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  • All I Could See Was Frost   Chapter 7

    The door was open, so the wind from the hallway blew in, little by little.My mother stood in the doorway, motionless for a long time. She stared at my dad's photo, as if she had forgotten to breathe.Mr. Russell was also stunned, his face turning ghastly pale. He probably never expected my dad to really be dead. Olivia was frightened by the furnishings in the unit and instinctively winced behind Mr. Russell.I ignored them. I just walked over, put down my schoolbag, and picked up the lukewarm cup of water on the altar table. I replaced it with a new one as usual.I had been doing this for three months, so it was all too familiar.My mother finally slowly walked in, asking hoarsely, "When did this happen?""Three months ago.""Why wasn't I told?"I looked up at her and retorted flatly, "Would telling you have helped? My dad called you, texted you, begged you, and waited for you, but did you ever believe him?"My mother's lips moved but did not say a word.I went to the draw

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