Chapter 4 Zero-Mark Paper

My name, Cecelia Thorne, was unevenly scrawled across the name field. It was what I had forced myself to write at the very start of the exam, clinging to the last thread of consciousness I had left.

Right after that, I collapsed to the floor.

Mom stared at the blank answer sheet, the muscles at the corner of her eye twitching violently. "Not only are you lazy, but you've even learned to hand in a blank paper just to provoke me."

She gritted her teeth, gripping the red pen so tightly it looked like it might snap.

"Ms. Collins, what's wrong? Why are you so angry?" The head of the language department leaned over to take a look. "Well, would you look at that. Whose paper is this? Not even a single word in the essay. That's practically a direct challenge to the teacher."

"My useless daughter, of course. Who else?" Mom let out a cold laugh and picked up the red pen, slashing a massive X across the paper. The mark took up nearly the entire sheet, pressed so hard it bled through to the back.

"She's getting more outrageous by the day. Sleeping through class was bad enough. Now she's pulling this during finals."

Mom abruptly stood up, her chair screeching harshly against the floor. "I'm going to deal with her properly today."

She grabbed the zero-score paper covered in red ink and strode out of the grading room. The wind in the hallway lifted the hem of her coat, carrying a trace of her simmering anger.

At four in the afternoon, the sun had already begun to sink. The corridor outside the spare classroom was dim, washed in fading light.

My mom's heels struck the tiles in crisp, echoing clicks. When she reached the door, she did not even bother with the key. She kicked it hard instead.

"Cecelia Thorne, the sun's about to set. Haven't you slept enough yet?"

The door didn't open. Inside, there was only silence.

Mom let out a cold snort, pulled out her keys, and jammed one into the lock, twisting it sharply. The door swung open with force. A gust of cold air, thick with the smell of mildew, rushed out.

Holding the zero-score paper, Mom strode into the room. "Cecelia Thorne, get up and take a look at the excellent score you earned—"

Her voice cut off abruptly.

I lay on the floor in the exact same position as four hours earlier, completely unmoving.

"Still pretending to be dead?"

The slanted sunlight cut into the room, illuminating dust drifting through the beam.

My body remained curled in an unnatural position. My fingers, locked in the spasms before death, were still clutching the torn admission slip.

My nails had turned a dark bluish-purple, embedded deeply into my flesh. The blood that had flowed from my temple had long dried, forming a dark red stain on the concrete.

Mom walked over and nudged my stiff foot with the tip of her heel, her expression full of disgust. "What kind of act are you putting on now?"

She rolled the zero-score paper into a tube and struck my shoulder with it. "You think a bit of fake blood is going to get you out of copying this paper a hundred times?"

There was no response. I didn't move at all, letting her kick and hit me.

"Cecelia Thorne, my patience has limits." Mom's voice rose, anger tightly restrained beneath it. "Get up right now and go to the office to redo this paper."

She reached down to grab my arm, but the moment her fingers made contact, she froze. My skin was cold—completely devoid of the warmth of a living body. My limbs were rigid.

"Why… Why are you so cold?" She recoiled as if shocked, a flicker of panic flashing through her eyes. But just as quickly, it was smothered by her ingrained certainty. "You're lying on the floor dressed like that. Of course you're cold."

She let out a cold laugh and straightened. "That kind of trick won't work on me. Even if you freeze to death here today, you're still finishing that paper."

At that moment, Olivia passed by the corridor.

She was holding a few sheets of unused scratch paper. When she leaned in and glanced into the spare classroom, she froze.

Just one look, and the papers slipped from her hands, scattering across the floor.