28

I quickly reached my senior year of high school. During this year, I dedicated myself to my studies, immersing myself in textbooks. Some of my classmates were privy to certain secrets and would occasionally gossip, but I paid them no mind.

I kept Trevis' photo tucked inside the inner pocket of my wallet, and whenever I felt utterly drained from the demands of senior year, I would steal a fleeting glance at it.

Even amidst the busyness of senior year, I managed to send Trevis many letters. Almost every letter received a response from him. He was more concerned about my relationship with my family. To spare him from worrying, I would vaguely reply that everything was fine.

But in reality, once they found out I could earn money through writing, they seized my bank card. Moreover, throughout my entire senior year, I didn't receive a single word of comfort. A year later, I secured a place at Harvard with the highest grades in the entire school.

When I received my acceptance letter, I co