Part 2All I Could See Was Frost

The scanner in my hand paused for a moment. My gaze fell on the shelves and remained there for a long time without moving.

After my father left, the first thing I lost was not my living expenses; it was the feeling of someone caring whether I went to school.

No matter how late I came home, he would always ask if I had finished my homework and how I did in my exams.

When he was at his worst, with needles inserted into his hand, he was still thinking about my monthly exams and college entrance exams.

Now, no one asked me those questions anymore.

I did not even have anyone to remind me to bring the admission slip anymore.

After getting off work, I bought a small bouquet of white flowers from the florist on the street corner and a discounted cake from the cake shop that was about to close for the day before taking the last bus to the cemetery.

The wind was not strong tonight, and the mountain road was quiet.

I placed the flowers and cake in front of the grave, squatted down, and looked at my father's portrait. "The school is chasing me for tuition again today. I submitted my withdrawal application."

I paused and then recounted what had happened during the day. "I saw Ms. Stroll at school today. She had just finished Olivia's parent-teacher conference, and she was all smiles. The first thing she asked me was if I usually dressed like this to school. Then she handed me her business card, saying she would immediately send me to the international program if you admitted to your mistake."

I could not help but smile slightly. The smile was so faint that I could barely feel it myself. "She still doesn't know you're dead."

I unboxed the cake, cut a small piece with a fork, and placed it on the offering plate. "Dad, I wanted to hold on a little longer, but I really can't. Don't be mad at me."

I stared at the tombstone, my throat tightening. “I know you're most afraid that I'll drop out of school, but I've done everything I could."

The wind blew down from the mountain, rustling the grass in front of the grave.

I sat by the grave for a long time before my phone screen lit up. It was a message from my homeroom teacher, Ms. Darth: [Come to school tomorrow to pick up your personal belongings.]

…

The next day, I sensed something was off as soon as I entered the school gate.

Someone saw me and immediately lowered their head to talk to the person next to them. Someone was holding up a phone, pointing it at me. When I looked up, they quickly lowered it.

I walked toward the classroom. As I passed the stairwell, two boys who had been talking immediately lowered their voices when they saw me, but their eyes still kept glancing at my face.

I walked to my seat and put down my backpack, but I then noticed several words written on my desk in chalk.

[Ungrateful!]

[Can't stand seeing others do well.]

[Jealous of his stepsister!]

Each word was written heavily, as if afraid no one would see it. I stood there for a few seconds, took out a tissue from my backpack, dampened it, and wiped it off little by little.

My deskmate moved aside, as if afraid of getting involved.

Just then, Ms. Darth stood at the door and called out to me, "Jordan, come to the office."

I zipped up my backpack and followed her out.

When the office door opened, I immediately saw my mother. She stood by the window, her face even grimmer than yesterday. Mr. Russell sat in a chair, frowning and looking like he was suppressing his anger. Olivia stood beside him with her head down and looking aggrieved.

Daisy handed me her phone. "Take a look for yourself."

An anonymous post suddenly appeared on the school forum last night. The title was direct, and the content was even more so.