From Pantry To MIT: Their Regret

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tt stood there, a phantom from a pas

me playfully. Her brow furrowed then

I scoffed, forcing a laugh. "Never seen him before in

please, can we talk? Privately?" His eyes were bloodshot, his face pale and drawn. He looked nothing like the arrogant Ivy League bul

eeling neglected again? Did she need another one of my projects to pass off as her own? Or are you here to frame me for another nonexistent crime?" I finally lo

d their conversations, their gazes shifting curiously towards us. Maya, my

ssed. "Catrina, please," he pleaded, his voice a hoarse whisper. "I'm so

itch? Sorry for ransacking my room and destroying my belongings? Sorry for standing by as Angelique tormented me, day in and day out? Which one of your myriad acts of cowardice are y

eadlights. "I didn't... I didn't know what you were going thr

elique. The fragile, beautiful lie. You chose to believe a fabricated narrative over your own flesh and blo

"Come on. We'll

gly strong. "Wait! Please! Mom and Dad... they're not doing well. The company stock

" I repeated, my voice dangerously soft. "You think this is about stock prices and rumors, Dozier? Eighteen years of neglect, of spiritual and emotional abuse, of being left to die on a

p, her steps echoing mine. I didn't look back, but I felt his desperate gaze boring into my back. His regret was

acher, caught up with me. "Catrina, the principal would like to see you in his office." Her voi

never did. They clung to power, to control, like a drowning man clings to a life raft. I steeled myse

alight with a horrifyingly