The second semester of senior year arrived.
Mireille's story slowly faded from daily conversation.
Graduating seniors were far too swamped to spare a thought for the past, swallowed whole by endless practice exams, mock tests, and university applications.
The weeks flew by as if someone had pressed fast-forward.
I submitted applications to universities far across the country, to a coastal city over a thousand kilometers from my hometown.
My mother asked, "Why so far away?"
I answered simply, "I want to see the ocean."
She did not ask again. Instead, she quietly knitted a thick woolen scarf and tucked it deep into my suitcase.
*****
The national entrance examinations arrived in June. The summer heat was brutal, and the ceaseless drone of cicadas hung thick in the heavy air.
I sat
