Chapter 2
In high school, Avery was brought to our house by her parents, both bowing to my dad.
“Thank you, Mr. Carter, for sponsoring my daughter’s education. We will work hard!”
Avery’s dad was our driver, her mom our housekeeper. When they heard my dad wanted to sponsor a student, they immediately asked him to help Avery.
My dad agreed; Avery had good grades and was smart.
We thought it was just a regular sponsorship, but unexpectedly, it was the start of our nightmare.
For Avery’s convenience, she moved into our house, enjoying the same treatment as me. After starting school, rumors began circulating that I liked Avery.
Avery was rumored to be the top Heiress, picked up by luxury cars daily, while I, who kept a low profile, became the “sponsored” struggling student intruding on Avery.
I wanted to explain, but Avery cried, saying if she explained, she’d be ridiculed. The rumors were just gossip, and she told me not to worry.
“You promised to keep a low profile at school, or do you want people to accuse you of bullying, focusing on your money?”
“A student’s job is to study!”
I bottled up these words. My parents were busy and seldom home, and even if I explained, no one would believe me. Like Avery said, I should focus on my studies.
Just as I improved my grades, I found many valuable items missing at home. I wanted to call the police, but Avery stopped me.
“Wait for your dad to come back before doing anything. If you call the police, how will you attend school?”
I didn’t call the police, but rumors spread that I was clinging to Avery to get into high society.
Classmates began to ostracize me, and Avery’s popular boyfriend started causing trouble. I was locked in a storeroom, hit on the head on the street.
I was bullied because of Avery.
When I got a concussion, my parents returned to confront the school.
But before they could find Avery, they received terrible news. Avery’s dad leaked company secrets to our rivals.
He pretended my dad asked him to deliver confidential files, which he then sold at a high price to our rivals.
With the money, they disappeared.
My family was framed and went bankrupt, ending up on the street.
Late at night, a deranged man attacked us with a knife, and we died at his hands.
How could it be so coincidental?
Before dying, Avery, in her designer clothes, looked at our family with disdain: “I hate you rich people the most. You deserve to die, worthless lives.”
It was murder, but the attacker wouldn’t face any consequences, and Avery’s family took the money and fled.
Recalling the pain and injustice before death, my eyes reddened.
Avery, just wait.
I won’t let you get away with it!