But as he leaned closer, a familiar, cloying perfume hit my nostrils—Tabitha"s signature fragrance! Had they been together? After the rumors started? This realization broke my already fragile nerves. I heard nothing the teacher said. My mind echoed his "despise mixed-blood mongrels" and the scent of another woman clinging to him. The moment the bell rang, I bolted. I ran to the empty, windswept school rooftop. The cold wind whipped my face, but couldn"t cool the burning pain in my chest. Why give me hope, only to shatter it? Old wounds on my back seemed to ache, reminding me of my suffering as a "mongrel." Looking at my pale wrist, an uncontrollable self-destructive urge surged. Was pain the only proof I was alive? The only mask for this heart-shattering agony? I dug my fingernails into my
