Before I died,I won five million pounds

chapter 4

After he left, volunteers from the nearby university often visited the orphanage.

They played games with me, brought snacks, and one of them even raised money to buy me a wheelchair.

Sitting in it, I finally walked shoulder to shoulder with my classmates. I was no longer the last one left behind.

The setting sun bathed the path home in golden light, and I walked along that trail of radiance.

As public support for orphans grew, our lives gradually improved. I stayed in school, studied hard, and eventually earned a place at university—the best one in our state.

My uncle drove over specially to take me to his house for dinner.

This was one of only two times he’d visited me in over a decade.

My aunt had prepared a feast, but her face fell the moment she saw me walk in.

She looked different from my memories, her face etched with the marks of time.

"Come in."

While chatting with my uncle, I learned my cousin hadn’t made it into university.

"Why would you bring that up? You should be proud your daughter didn't get in!"

I fell silent.

"What use are domestic universities? Our Jane's off to study in UK soon."

Uncle looked distinctly awkward.

"Congratulations to my cousin."

My phone buzzed in my bag—it was the director calling. Her voice was cold and devoid of warmth. After hearing her words, I let the phone fall limply from my hand. Fate still delights in such cruel tricks.

Fate always did have a cruel sense of humor.

That same boy who used to torment me at the orphanage had also been accepted into university. Because I was paralyzed from the waist down, the orphanage had decided to give their scholarship funds to him instead.

When Uncle heard, he offered to pay for my tuition himself.

But once Aunt found out, she flew into a rage.

“Are you out of your mind?” she shouted. “She’s not even your responsibility! Her parents didn’t want her—why should we?”

I froze.

It was the first time anyone had mentioned my parents in years.

“She’s still my niece,” Uncle said quietly. “If her parents won’t help her, we can’t just stand by and watch.”

“And what about your own daughter?” Aunt shot back. “Who’s paying for her education abroad? Maybe think about your own family for once.”

Uncle fell silent.

Finally, he looked at me with tired eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

People have said those words to me more times than I can count. But apologies don’t change anything.

“You haven’t wronged me, Uncle,” I said gently. “I’ll make my own way. I always have.”

Without financial aid, I applied for a student loan.

Due to my health, I faced considerable discrimination at university.

I couldn't participate in most club activities or competitions.

I scrimped and saved, studied relentlessly, striving to secure every penny within my reach.

When I finally stood on stage to receive that £2000 scholarship, everyone applauded—including John.

We met again at the same university.

I smiled at him, and he pushed my wheelchair as we strolled around the sports field.

"I'm sorry."

I smiled faintly: "Parting is for a better reunion. We're still friends now, aren't we?"

"I heard you won first prize in the provincial mathematical modelling competition. Congratulations."

"Yes. Come on, I'll take you to play badminton."

Whenever he had time, he'd accompany me reading, walking, and eating. On my birthday, he gave me a necklace.

Only she would remember when my birthday was.