
476 readers · 9 chapters · 3 free
My college roommate, Beatrix Hawthorne, thrived on cruel pranks. When I told her to stop, she laughed and called me boring. Then she crossed a line—coating my shoes with lubricant. I tumbled down a flight of stairs and fell into a coma. My mother gave up everything to save me: her job, our house, her life savings. She begged the university to investigate, hoping for justice, or at least enough compensation to continue my care. But Beatrix lied, insisting, “Halcyon Sinclair was horsing around and tripped on her own. It had nothing to do with others.” In despair, my mother swallowed the pills. And before the darkness took her, she reached for the oxygen tube that kept me alive—and pulled. And yet, somehow—I opened my eyes again. Not in a hospital bed, but on the very day I first moved into that dorm room.