"What are you doing? Let go of me!"
They tore my backpack and clothes to shreds, forced my right hand flat against the ground, and brought a hammer down on my fingers.
"AHHH!"
The agony merged with memories of my past life—those excruciating ten hours before my death.
Just as despair consumed me, seven or eight cameras flashed in my face.
A familiar figure pushed through the crowd.
Christina stood over me, dangling a photograph.
"Here's a lesson for you: not everyone needs to take the college entrance exam. Breaking one hand today should teach you something."
She tilted her head. "Say another word about any of this, and you'll lose the other hand too. These photos? A little editing, and they'll be all over the city."
"Christina... this is illegal!"
I was shaking from the pain.
She looked bored.
"So what? What's the point of living by the rules all the time? Myron says if you're young, you should do something crazy."
A proud little smile crossed her face. "You've never truly loved someone, Alvin. You wouldn't understand."
Haven't I?
I sucked in a breath through my teeth.
How could I not understand?
I loved her...
"Miss Sullivan, since there's no one else around, and his other hand's still good, maybe we should—"
The men cracked their knuckles, looking me up and down with obvious intent.
CRACK.
Christina's foot slammed into the man's knee, dropping him instantly.
"Say another word, and you'll lose that leg."
The man caught the look in her eyes and started slapping himself.
"I was out of line! I'm sorry! I deserve it!"
Christina glanced down at me.
"I'm going to Lake Evermist with Myron for a week. I expect you won't say anything you shouldn't to my parents."
A week?
That would take us right up to the exam.
A stack of photos landed at my feet. One of the men leered down at me.
"Here. Keep a copy for yourself. Damn, you're pretty photogenic."
Rain began to fall. Soon I was alone in the alley.
With trembling hands, I picked up the photos. Every instinct screamed at me to tear them apart.
But I stopped myself.
No... I couldn't destroy them.
This was evidence.
No matter how much I wanted to pretend this never happened, I had to keep them.
Gritting my teeth, I staggered to my feet, clutching the photos as I stumbled out of the alley.
Once I became the top scorer in the province, these would be my evidence for the police.