I starved for seven days straight.
Then came the rats. A swarm of them. I caught the plague and burned with fever.
Just when I thought I'd die in that filthy shed, Norma—Louise's older sister—appeared before me with a bowl of porridge.
"Duane, hold on. You can't die. You still have your dreams!"
To get me treatment, Norma cut ties with her own family. She carried me on her back all the way to the clinic in town.
I was too delirious to swallow medicine, so she fed it to me mouth to mouth.
Under her care, I clawed my way back from death's door.
Then Norma knelt before me and confessed her feelings.
"Duane, I've always loved you. I just couldn't say anything because of Louise."
"Will you marry me? Whatever Louise owes you—I'll make up for it."
I wept with gratitude.
My fiancée and my brother had both betrayed me, but I still had Norma, who loved me with everything she had.
We got married.
For three years after the wedding, Norma kept her promise. She wouldn't let me work odd jobs—she wanted me to focus entirely on studying for the exam.
I appreciated how hard she worked running the school, so I came to help out.
Everyone said I was lucky. A principal for a wife, and such a devoted one at that.
I thought so too.
Until today.
Now I knew the truth. Every ounce of suffering I'd endured—it all traced back to Norma.
The soup crashed to the ground, and the sound cut through the room.
Inside, Norma froze. She set down the admission letter and stepped outside, her expression guarded.
When she saw it was me, that wariness didn't fade. If anything, it sharpened.
"What are you doing here?"
"How long have you been standing there?"
Two rapid-fire questions, like an interrogation.
My heart went cold.
I wanted to ask her—after burning my admission letters all those times, didn't she feel even a shred of guilt?
But I knew the answer better than she did.
No. She didn't.
She was just like Louise. The only person in her heart was my brother. Percival.
I swallowed the accusations rising in my throat and forced my voice to stay casual.
"I just got here. I heard your parents were coming, so I made some soup for everyone. Didn't expect to spill it..."
Norma's gaze dropped to my scalded hand, the skin an angry red. Her expression softened. She pulled me inside to treat it.
"You—I told you to leave these things to me, didn't I?"
"Let me put some oil on this first. I'll take you into town to get it looked at."