The Debt I Could Never Repay

When I was sixteen, my father broke his spine at a construction site. The surgery would cost two hundred thousand, but after scouring the house, we only scraped together three thousand eight hundred dollars.

Clutching my withdrawal application, I reached the school gates when Summerville stopped me.

She was the quietest top student in our class, sitting right behind me.

That day, she pressed a bank card into my hand.