Hannah seemed to realize she had said the wrong thing and quickly tried to make up for it.

"Look at me, running my mouth like that. Just forget what I said–"

"I've never seen my dad before. The only time I ever saw my mom was her back."

I stared into the distance and was lost in my memories.

"I grew up in an orphanage. The orphanage paid for my schooling, and I earned my living expenses by working part-time jobs on weekends.

"People always said my mom was a nightclub showgirl and that I was an illegitimate child. That rumor followed me from elementary school all the way through high school.

"When I was little, I wanted to prove my mom wasn't that kind of person. I saved money for a long time and paid someone to pretend to be my mom, but it turned out that person really was a nightclub showgirl. I ended up proving the rumor to be true after all."

I laughed at myself.

On the other side, Hannah's voice suddenly became choked with emotion.

"Were the people who bullied you doing it because of that rumor too?"

I hummed in response.

Hannah suddenly raised her voice. Between sobs, she angrily complained, "If they hate you just because of some baseless rumor without ever actually getting to know you, then those people are hopeless.

"At least I'm just bad at studying. They're the real trash!

"Do you have their phone numbers? Give them to me. I'll gather them all this weekend and teach them a lesson."

She sounded genuinely upset as she rambled on.

The more I listened, the less annoyed I felt. In fact, I slowly fell asleep.

Hearing my steady breathing, Hannah softly called out my name. When I didn't answer, she let out a helpless laugh.

"Good night, Evan. Everything will get better."

The next day, I took a deep breath and walked into the classroom.

Just as expected, my desk had been moved to the spot next to the trash can again.

The desk's surface was covered with rude words.

The students in the class looked at me with expressions ranging from smugness to mockery. Even the teacher who walked in right after me said, "Evan, why are you still standing there? Class is about to start. Hurry up and clean your desk."

In the past, I would have told myself to endure it.

I was afraid that if I made a big scene, the school would expel me. I would have no choice but to go out there and work.

No one had my back. That was my disadvantage, but it was also my advantage.

I had nothing to lose. I could risk everything.

The teacher urged me again, but this time, I ignored him. I walked straight toward the boy who was laughing the loudest and kicked his desk over.

The students around him were about to run over to help, but I shouted, "Don't come any closer. I already called the police!

"The cameras in the classroom have been recording the entire time. Everything you've done to me is on video.

"This is bullying. You'll have to take legal responsibility."

The students at the front sneered.

"Evan, your mom was a nightclub showgirl, and you don't even know who your dad is. Can't you handle people talking about it?"

"Exactly. If you didn't do anything wrong, you wouldn't be afraid of people bringing it up. You're acting so anxious because what we said is true."

I was silent.

Even the teacher looked at me impatiently.

"Evan, you're all classmates. They were just joking around with you. Why are you taking it so seriously?

"Tell the police you were just messing around. Say you made a false report.

"We've wasted ten minutes of this lesson because of you. Even if you don't want to study, don't waste everyone else's time."

I retrieved my phone and tapped on the screen. The call was still connected.

"Officer, you heard everything, didn't you?"

The police officer's serious voice came from the other end.

"Don't worry. We've already dispatched officers to investigate. We're currently checking the footage in the security room."

The moment they realized I wasn't joking, everyone's faces turned pale. They quickly started apologizing to me.

"Evan, we're classmates. Why did you call the police?"

"We'll help you clean your desk right now. We won't joke about you anymore."

Of course, some people were still arrogant.

"So what if you called the police? Do you even know who my dad is?"

The officer on the phone happened to be someone with a strong sense of justice. He immediately warned, "I don't know who your father is, but I do know that bribing the police will only make things worse."

The boy clicked his tongue, stomped his foot, and left the classroom.

In the end, the entire class was suspended for a week and required to cooperate with the investigation.

Some parents came to cause trouble. They even banded together and demanded that the school expel me.

But I had always ranked first in every exam. I was the student in the entire school with the highest chance of getting into Kerningham College.

The school was waiting to use me to build its reputation. Naturally, they wouldn't give up on me. Instead, they actively negotiated with those parents.

When I got home after school, I sat on my chair and suddenly started laughing. I laughed for thirty minutes. I even laughed until I teared up.

Hannah didn't understand what happened and asked why I was so happy.

"This is the first time I realized fighting back actually works.

"Maybe the final result won't be perfect, but I still won. I won against myself."

Hannah laughed too. She opened a can of soda and clinked it against mine through the empty space between us.

"Evan, here's a toast to you. To your victory after risking everything."

During the one-week suspension, I stayed home and studied for an entire week.

Hannah noticed that I often ate instant noodles and became worried about my health.

She would always ask her mom to make two portions of food. One portion was packed up and transferred to me through random locations.

Her parents would occasionally join our conversations too.

"Evan, it'd have been wonderful if you were my son. Hannah is just too much of a troublemaker.

"Here's a secret. She still wet the bed when she was nine."

Hannah immediately panicked.

"Mom! Don't make things up!"

Whenever that happened, Hannah's dad would appear.

"Hannah, it's the truth. I'm not making things up."

Hannah said her personality came from her mother. I believed it too. They were both passionate and free-spirited.

Was this what having a family felt like?

I suddenly felt a strong longing. I retrieved the money I had saved over the years. Without thinking it through, I bought a train ticket to where Hannah lived on my phone.

"I want to see you, Hannah. I want to meet your mom too."

Hannah froze for a moment. Suddenly, she turned down my suggestion. She sounded oddly anxious too.

"Evan, you can't come here. Anyone else can come, but you absolutely cannot.

"Please. Please don't come looking for me, or else you'll die!"

I was confused. I wanted to ask Hannah why, but the time-space connection suddenly seemed to malfunction. My voice couldn't reach her, and I couldn't hear hers either.

I began thinking. What did Hannah mean by that?

Could someone have threatened her? Was she worried that if I went there, the person who wanted to hurt her would kill me too?

If that was the case, then I had even more reason to go.

There seemed to be a voice in my heart urging me to get on the road.

I decided to follow it even if I didn't know what awaited me.

The school planned to give the students involved in the bullying another week of suspension.

The police had also found solid evidence and were discussing the appropriate punishment.

I used the chance to request another week off and began my journey to Hannah's home.

When I got on the train, I suddenly remembered something. I forgot to exchange phone numbers with Hannah.

When I arrived, I might only be able to find her by the address.

I felt annoyed, but soon, the scenery outside the window caught my attention.

This was my first time traveling far away. Everything felt unfamiliar, but I was happy.

The outside world was so vast. One day, I would definitely go out and see it all.

After nearly a full day on the train, I finally found Hannah's house. It was already getting dark.

I stood in front of the gate, took several deep breaths, and finally reached out to knock.

A familiar female voice came from inside. A moment later, Hannah opened the door. She was wearing the same tank top from before and looked at me with confusion.

"Can I help you?"

I excitedly said, "Are you Hannah? I'm Evan."

I thought Hannah would realize who I was and either show concern or yell at me for coming.

But instead, her expression became even more confused.

"I don't know anyone named Evan. Sorry, but I think you have the wrong person."