I first met Ava in first grade.
Back then, I was a chubby kid, surrounded by a group of children who mocked me, saying I was as fat as a pig. I looked down at my protruding belly, ashamed, biting my lip hard to stop the tears from falling.
My parents were always away on business trips, and I saw them only a few times a year. You could say I was raised by the housekeeper and the maids.
On the rare occasions when I did see my parents, all they did was sternly warn me, "You are the heir of the Murray family. According to the Murray family rules, you are not allowed to cry in front of outsiders."
I clenched my fists so tightly, feeling like I had reached my limit. Just then, I heard a clear, crisp voice behind me.
"Why are you bullying the new student?"
A girl with her hands on her
