LOGINAs a low-income student who's specifically recruited by the elite college this year, I can still feel my hands trembling as I clutch the letter that tells me I get to study for free. Not only are my tuition and miscellaneous fees waived, but I also get to receive 30 thousand dollars' worth of student grant per year. I even get to have free access to the leather seats inside the library, the equipment inside the gym, as well as the aerial garden on the roof. The best surprise for me has to be the cafeteria. All low-income students get a 50% discount on their meals, but the quality of their food doesn't decrease at all. Best beef is used in the steak dinners offered by the cafeteria, whereas a seafood platter showcases the entire huge lobster. Even the most basic mac and cheese meal has different types of freshly grated cheese baked into it. As I sit in the brightly lit classroom and look at the rich students around me, who wear custom-made uniforms and have branded watches latched around their wrists, all I have is one thought. I must be on good terms with them. But my seatmate, who's also a low-income student, isn't as thrilled as me. In fact, she just looks at the people around her with disdain in her eyes. After the first lesson, a rich student arrives at our table. He might not sound polite at all, but at least he's not putting on airs. "Do any of you have time to head over to the cafeteria and buy me breakfast?" I'm about to respond to him when a shrill voice booms out next to me. "You're so annoying! What, you think you rule the campus since you're rich? Had I known that this classroom is filled with useless scions like you who just waste their lives away on nothing, I wouldn't have enrolled in this college in the first place!"
View More"You're running out of time, Miss Stewart." Becky Stewart's world came crashing down around her as she sat in Dr. Thompson's office, the words "You're running out of time, Miss Stewart" hanging in the air like a challenge.
The fluorescent lights above seemed to flicker with an otherworldly intensity, casting an eerie glow on the somber expression of the doctor's face. "What do you mean?" Becky asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She tried to sound calm, but her hands were shaking in her lap, betraying her growing unease. Dr. Thompson leaned forward, his eyes filled with a deep concern. "Your heart is failing, Becky. We need to act fast. A transplant is your best option, but we need to move quickly." The words felt like a punch to the gut, leaving Becky breathless and disoriented. A transplant? That sounded like a death sentence. She thought of all the people she'd seen waiting for transplants, the long lists, the uncertainty. She didn't want to be one of them. "How long do I have?" she asked, her voice cracking. "Without a transplant, six months to a year, maybe less," Dr. Thompson replied, his voice gentle but firm. "With a transplant, your chances of survival increase significantly. But we need to find a match, and fast." Becky felt like she was drowning in a sea of uncertainty. She thought of all the things she'd planned to do, all the places she'd wanted to see. She thought of her family, her friends. She didn't want to leave them behind. As she left the doctor's office, Becky felt like she was walking through a nightmare. The bright sunlight seemed to mock her, the cheerful chatter of passersby a cruel contrast to the darkness that had settled inside her. She wandered aimlessly, her feet carrying her to a nearby park. She sat down on a bench, staring blankly at the flowers in front of her. The world around her seemed to fade away, leaving only the echoes of Dr. Thompson's words. "You're running out of time, Miss Stewart." The phrase repeated itself in her mind like a mantra, a constant reminder of her mortality. Just as she was starting to lose hope, Becky's phone rang. It was the doctor's office. "Becky, we have some good news," the nurse said. "A donor has come forward, and we'd like you to come in for the surgery as soon as possible." Becky's heart skipped a beat. Could it be that the universe wasn't ready for her to die after all? She rushed back to the office, her mind racing with questions. What kind of donor was it? How long would the surgery take? What were the chances of success? As she prepared for the surgery, Becky felt a sense of hope that she hadn't felt in weeks. Maybe this was her chance to start anew, to live the life she'd always wanted. The surgery was a blur, but Becky remembered feeling a sense of relief wash over her as she woke up. The transplant had been a success, and she was going to live. As she drifted in and out of consciousness, Becky had a strange dream. She saw a man standing in front of her, his face a blur. He was speaking to her, his voice low and gentle. "Lend, make me the happiest man in the world," he said. "Marry me." Becky's mind reeled as she tried to process the dream. Who was this man, and why was he calling her Lend? She didn't know, but the memory of his words stayed with her long after she woke up. When Becky finally came to, she was groggy and disoriented. But as she looked around the hospital room, she saw a figure standing by the window. It was a man with a sharp jawline and tousled dark hair. He turned to her, and their eyes met for the first time. "Hello, Becky," he said, his voice low and gentle. "My name is William Edward. I'm so glad you're okay." Becky's heart skipped a beat as she looked at William. There was something about him that seemed familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. As William approached her bedside, Becky noticed the concern etched on his face. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice filled with warmth. Becky hesitated, unsure of how to respond. She didn't know this man, but there was something about him that put her at ease. "I'm...I'm okay, I guess," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. William smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "This might sound crazy but," he said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "Do you want to get married?" The question caught Becky unaware. Her eyes widened in shock as she looked at the man, weirdly. Was he drunk or something? Certainly he was very handsome but how could he just approach a stranger and ask such question? “Obviously I would want to get married in the future, but...” She replied, “but to who?” “To me.”My startup journey turned out to be way harder than I ever imagined.At first, the platform barely had any users, and the few people on our team were working until the wee hours every day. Sometimes, we didn't even have time to eat.There were more than a few nights when I would sit alone in the empty office and stare at the depressing numbers on the dashboard, tears slipping down my face. I thought maybe it was better to just give up.However, every time I felt like quitting, pictures would pop into my head—how my classmates surrounded me to defend me against Cecily in Harry's office, or how Sonia stood before me as she berated my parents, or when they all smiled and wished me success on graduation day.Thinking about them made me wipe my tears, take a deep breath, and open my laptop again.I knew I couldn't let them down—not them and definitely not the version of me who had fought tooth and nail to change her fate.Slowly but surely, my hard work paid off. After two years, the
Although I was basically Sonia's sidekick, she was incredibly generous. Whenever she bought something, she would always get me one too.If we were in a luxury store and she spotted a dress that would suit me, she would toss it into the shopping bag and say, "This color looks good on you—and don't you dare take my fashion advice for granted."Passing by a dessert shop, she would grab an extra mango crepe just for me, grumbling, "Don't blame me if you gain weight." But her eyes betrayed the love she tried to hide.Meanwhile, I did what I could to help her—taking notes in class, doing assignments, grabbing meals, and picking up deliveries.Looking back, I realized just how ridiculously lucky I was. Those "hand-me-down" clothes she casually gave me were, in hindsight, a bunch of luxury items worth at least ten thousand dollars each.She would always shrug and say, "It'll take up space in the closet if I keep them. Just wear them and give them a new purpose."…The next time I heard
"Have you lost your mind? I didn't raise you all these years just for you to talk back when I tell you when and whom to marry!" Dad reprimanded me. "No amount of studying will change your fate as a woman—we might as well trade you for something useful!"The slap was about to come down on my face when a hand reached out and seized Dad's wrist. I followed that arm upward—it was Steven's.He stood about six inches taller than Dad, broad-shouldered and straight-backed. His gaze was terrifyingly cold as he looked down at Dad."Sir, causing a disturbance on campus is strictly prohibited, and forcing a student to drop out is illegal. If you keep this up, we'll have no choice but to call the police."Dad struggled several times but couldn't break free. His face flushed deep red, and he roared until his voice went hoarse, "She's my daughter! Who are you to interfere when I'm just disciplining my own child?"At that moment, a cluster of rhythmic footsteps sounded behind me. When I turned ar
"I was wrong, Mr. Barker!" Cecily cried out. "I won't do it again, I swear. Please don't expel me! If my parents found out, they'd tear me apart!"She looked at us as if she had grabbed hold of her last lifeline. With a loud thud, she dropped to her knees, hitting the tile hard. She then crawled toward a few classmates from well-off families, pleading as she went."Please, help me. I don't want to be expelled. I know I was wrong, and I won't ever spread rumors again. If you can help me keep my enrollment, I'll do just anything!"She kept bowing her head, but everyone either turned their faces away or stepped back without thinking. No one reached out to her.One of the guys frowned and said, "If it takes you this easily to realize you're wrong, why didn't you think about the consequences when you were spreading rumors about Naomi? Helping you now would be a slap in her face."Seeing no one would help her, Cecily stopped her pleading. She kept her head down, her shoulders shaking. A






Welcome to GoodNovel world of fiction. If you like this novel, or you are an idealist hoping to explore a perfect world, and also want to become an original novel author online to increase income, you can join our family to read or create various types of books, such as romance novel, epic reading, werewolf novel, fantasy novel, history novel and so on. If you are a reader, high quality novels can be selected here. If you are an author, you can obtain more inspiration from others to create more brilliant works, what's more, your works on our platform will catch more attention and win more admiration from readers.