Chapter 3
Our classroom was only on the second floor. A fall from that height wouldn't kill anyone.
Besides, in her previous life, Sloane ended up living in luxury. There was no way a girl like her would choose to die at eighteen, poor and defeated.
This whole dramatic stunt was just her way of covering up her stealing.
And it worked.
The ambulance arrived quickly and took Sloane away with a leg injury.
When I saw Quito get into the ambulance too, I felt uneasy. I immediately called my driver, Kenzo Upton, who was waiting at the back gate, and told him to follow them and keep an eye on both of them.
Elaine, still badly shaken, kept warning the class never to mention the stealing incident to Sloane again.
After all, if something really did happen to Sloane at school, Elaine would be in serious trouble.
To make sure no one mentioned the incident again, Elaine began defending Sloane openly.
She explained that Sloane must have been going through real hardship at home, and that stealing was a last resort. Besides, Kimberly had already punished her harshly. She'd paid the price. Elaine asked everyone to be understanding and not bring it up again.
Most of the students were kind-hearted. They promised to support Sloane and keep quiet. Satisfied, Elaine left the classroom.
Just before the evening study hall ended, Quito helped Sloane back into the room. Her ankle was wrapped in bandages.
Instead of returning to their seats, they stopped right in front of my desk.
I was focused on solving practice problems when their shadows fell over my paper. Irritated, I looked up.
"Can you guys move? I'm trying to study here," I said.
But Quito didn't budge. Instead, he slapped a stack of hospital bills onto my desk.
"I used the class fund to pay for Sloane's treatment," he said. "Since you're the one who caused this, it's only right that you pay it back.
"The total is 6,500 dollars. Transfer it now."
His self-righteous tone caught me off guard. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"Sloane jumped on her own. I didn't push her. Why should I pay?" I shot back.
As I spoke, I picked up the bills. Sloane only had some minor scrapes and a wrapped ankle. I wanted to see how the cost had gotten so high.
Sure enough, the form listed all kinds of unnecessary tests the doctor had ordered, but the only actual charge was for bandages, barely 30 dollars.
It was obvious Quito was just taking Sloane's side and trying to make me pay.
They must have schemed together, convincing the doctor to run pointless exams just to inflate the bill and squeeze money out of me, all to get back at me.
So I called them out without holding back.
"Quito, the bill shows 30 dollars, but you're asking me for 6,500 dollars. Care to explain?" I said.
"With all these papers, it's easy to lose a receipt. Just pay Sloane. Romina, don't make me hate you," Quito shot back.
I shrugged. "You lost the payment slip? But you still have the transaction history on your phone. Show me."
At that moment, Quito was just a clueless boy, nothing like the scheming partner who would help Sloane ruin me in my previous life.
When I pressed him to show the proof, his ears turned red, and he began stumbling over his words.
He stammered, "R-Romina, why are you so mean? You saw a classmate getting hurt. No matter the reason, you should have helped.
"But you? You didn't just stand there. You filmed her secretly and shared the video to shame her and make her a target. You pushed her until she jumped. Now you still won't admit you were wrong or even pay her hospital bill.
"This is nothing to you, just a month's allowance. Do you really think you're better than everyone? That money puts you above the rules?"
Quito was nearly shouting now, his words coming faster and louder.
His speech stirred up the whole class. Their pity for Sloane turned into anger toward me.
All at once, every eye was on me. I was the villain in their minds.
One of the hotheaded students suddenly charged toward me, flipped my desk over, and stomped ruthlessly across my carefully organized notes. As he rolled up his sleeves, he glared at me, poised to throw a punch.
"Romina, if you don't pay up today, just get out of our class," he yelled.
Another student joined in, "That's right. This class is built on warmth and unity. We're not letting someone as toxic as you destroy that."
*****
Backed by the whole class, Quito and Sloane exchanged a quick, triumphant glance, their smiles betraying their confidence that victory was already theirs.
Calmly, I pointed at the bright orange phone visible in Quito's uniform pocket, my tone laced with sharp sarcasm.
"So you used over 6,500 dollars from the class fund to treat yourselves to new phones? You've got some nerve. Did you really think I'd play along and be the fool who covers up your little scam?" I sneered.