Chapter 8
311words
As I walked past my old classroom, I found Lucas Harrison waiting in the hallway.
Watching me.
"Evelyn..."
I stopped, meeting his eyes without flinching.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
A bitter smile twisted my lips.
"You know something, Lucas?" I said evenly. "Your 'sorry' hurts more than Sophia's slap ever could."
I walked away without looking back.
That was my last day at Westlake High.
It was also the last day I would be that broken version of Evelyn Carter.
At my new school, I transformed into a learning machine. I slept four hours a night, solved practice problems until my fingers cramped, and wrote essays until dawn.
I had one goal: Harvard Law School.
I wanted to gain the power to make bullies pay.
This singular focus carried me through the darkest year of my life.
Senior year, the acceptance letter arrived: Harvard Law School, full scholarship.
Mom sobbed, clutching me tight. "You're my miracle," she whispered.
Dad stayed sober for three whole days, bragging to anyone who would listen.
I felt nothing. I only knew I was finally escaping.
At Harvard, I studied with maniacal intensity.
I graduated summa cum laude, collected scholarships like trophies, and moved directly into the master's program.
Then I earned a PhD in psychology, specializing in trauma and bullying.
I joined Pearson Hardman, the most prestigious firm in the country, and built a specialty practice in campus bullying litigation.
I dedicated my career to helping bullied children find justice through the courts.
I became the advocate I had desperately needed as a teenager.
Five years later, I was the top attorney in my field, quoted in the New York Times and featured on 60 Minutes. But I was still waiting for my own justice.
That opportunity arrived last March.
