The letter smelled like paper and possibility.

Safina Cerezo found it tucked between the electric bill and a flyer for discounted rice, half-crushed in their mailbox that never really locked. The envelope was thick. Too thick for a bill. The seal at the back was gold, pressed with two crossed laurel branches and a tower.

_Sta. Maria University._

Her hands started shaking before she even opened it.

“Mama!” she called, already running to the kitchen where her mother was scraping the last of last night’s sardines into a pan. “Mama, it came!”

Her mother turned, wiping hands on a faded apron. “What came, anak?”

Safina ripped it open with her thumb. Her eyes scanned fast, then slower, then again, like she didn’t trust English to stay still on the page.

_Dear Ms. Safina Cerezo,_

_On behalf of the Board and Faculty of Sta. Maria University, it is with great pleasure that we offer you a Full Academic Scholarship..._

_In recognition of your standing as Valedictorian..._

_Tuition, dormitory, uniform, and book allowance are fully covered..._

She read it out loud. Her voice cracked on “fully covered.”

Her mama dropped the spatula. For a second neither of them spoke. Then her mama pulled her into a hug that smelled like cooking oil and joy.

“Valedictorian,” her mama whispered into her hair. “My valedictorian.”

Sta. Maria University was not for people like them. Everyone in their barangay knew that. It was the school with the fountain out front bigger than their whole street. The school where students arrived in cars with drivers who opened the doors. The school where last names were on buildings.

No poor person got in. That was the rule no one wrote down.

But Safina had.

She’d studied under a single bulb at night. She’d borrowed books from the public library and copied notes by hand. She’d taken every free academic exam, every contest, every chance. And she won.

This was her way out. For her, for her brother, for her mama who worked double shifts.

She folded the letter carefully and put it back in the envelope. She would laminate it later. Maybe frame it.

---

*Two Weeks Later*

The gates of Sta. Maria University were not gates. They were a statement.

Black iron, 12 feet high, with the school crest cast in gold at the center. Behind them: manicured lawns, buildings that looked like museums, and students who looked like they’d stepped out of magazines.

Safina stood at the entrance with one duffel bag and a scholarship packet clutched to her chest. Her uniform was new, but she could tell. The stitching was simpler. The fabric was thinner. She’d saved for three months to get it tailored to fit right.

She took a breath and stepped forward.

That’s when she saw them.

About twenty students. Standing in a loose circle near the fountain. All in perfect Sta. Maria blazers. All looking at her.

She’d expected this, a little. New students get stared at. But this wasn’t curiosity.

A girl with curled hair and diamond studs broke from the group. Her blazer had a crest pin that looked real gold.

“Oh,” the girl said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “You must be her.”

Safina blinked. “Her?”

“The scholarship kid.” The girl smiled. It was the kind of smile you give before you push someone. “The valedictorian. Safina Cerezo, right?”

Safina’s stomach dropped. She hadn’t told anyone her name yet. The orientation packets weren’t even handed out.

“How did you—”

“How did we know?” Another voice. A boy this time, leaning against the fountain with his arms crossed. Expensive watch. Haircut that cost more than her monthly groceries. “Please. The whole school’s been talking about it for two weeks. ‘Sta. Maria lets in a charity case.’ It’s all over the group chats.”

More laughter. Phones were already out.

Safina felt heat crawl up her neck. “I earned the scholarship. I was valedictorian.”

“Yeah, at _Public High 9_,” the curly-haired girl said, dragging out the name like it tasted bad. “We looked you up. Your mom works at the market, right? And your dad drives a jeepney? Very inspiring.”

Safina froze.

How did they know that? The scholarship application asked for academic records. Not her parents’ jobs. Not their income. She’d left those sections blank because Sta. Maria said scholarships were merit-based.

Someone in the back muttered, “No poor people here.”

The words landed like a slap.

“I’m not here to take anything from anyone,” Safina said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I got in because of my grades.”

“Grades,” the boy by the fountain scoffed. “Right. And we’re here because we wanted to give you a proper Sta. Maria welcome.”

The circle tightened a little.

Safina looked past them, searching for a teacher, a guard, anyone. But the adults were all inside, and the students on the edges were just watching. Recording.

“Welcome?” she asked, confused. “To what?”

“To reality,” Curly Hair said. “See, Sta. Maria has traditions. And one of them is... we take care of our own. People who don’t belong, well. We help them realize that.”

She stepped closer. Her perfume was expensive. It made Safina’s eyes water.

“You see, scholarship girl, this place is for legacies. For people who built this school. Not for people who got in because the dean wanted a photo op for the brochure. ‘Diversity.’” She said the word like it was an insult.

Safina’s grip tightened on her packet. “So this is bullying.”

The girl laughed. “Bullying? No. This is a welcome. We’re just being friendly.”

From the back of the group, someone finally moved.

He hadn’t spoken until now. He’d been standing slightly apart, hands in the pockets of his blazer, face unreadable. Tall. Dark hair that fell over his forehead. The Yang crest on his pocket was embroidered in silver thread.

Jin Yang.

Even the other bullies shifted when he moved. Not out of respect. Out of space. Like they didn’t want to be too close.

He looked at Safina. Really looked at her, for the first time. His eyes were gray, and tired in a way that didn’t match his age.

For a second, Safina thought maybe he would say something. Stop this.

Instead he just stared. Then his jaw tightened and he looked down at the ground.

“Jin,” Curly Hair said, softer now. “You don’t have to watch this if you don’t want to.”

He didn’t answer.

“Right,” she said, turning back to Safina with her smile back in place. “Anyway. Welcome to Sta. Maria, Safina. We have so many activities planned for you.”

“What kind of activities?” Safina asked, though her gut already knew.

“Oh, you know. The usual. Getting to know you. Testing your... durability.” She reached out like she was going to pat Safina’s shoulder.

Safina flinched back on instinct.

The girl’s hand stopped mid-air. Her smile faltered for half a second.

“You’re jumpy,” she said. “That’s good. You’ll need to be.”

A phone camera flashed.

Safina understood then, in a cold, sinking way. This wasn’t random. They’d planned this. The moment she walked through the gates. They knew her name, her background, her address probably. Someone had dug her up and served her on a plate.

And the worst part? She didn’t know why.

Yes, she was poor. Yes, she was on scholarship. But there had been scholarship students before, hadn’t there? Not many, but some. Why was she the one getting a “welcome”?

Unless it wasn’t about the scholarship.

Unless it was about her being valedictorian. About taking a spot someone else’s child wanted.

Unless it was just because they could.

“Leave me alone,” Safina said quietly.

“Or what?” the boy by the fountain said. “You gonna report us? To who? My dad funds the new science wing.”

More laughter.

Jin finally spoke, so quietly Safina almost missed it. “Enough.”

Everyone turned to him.

Curly Hair’s expression shifted. “Jin, it’s fine. We’re just—”

“I said enough.” His voice wasn’t loud. But it cut through everything.

For a moment, the courtyard went silent.

Jin looked at Safina again. And in his eyes she saw something she didn’t expect: not cruelty. Not amusement.

Pity. And fear.

He looked away first. “Let her go,” he said. “Orientation starts in ten.”

Curly Hair stared at him, then at Safina, then back at him. Whatever she saw in Jin’s face made her decide not to push it.

“Fine,” she said, tossing her hair. “We’ll continue this later, scholarship girl. Welcome to Sta. Maria.”

The circle broke apart. Students drifted away, still filming, still whispering.

_Scholarship girl. Charity case. Did you see her face?_

Safina stood there, heart pounding, as the fountain kept running behind her.

Jin was already walking away.

“Wait,” Safina called after him before she could stop herself.

He paused, but didn’t turn around.

“Why did you do that?” she asked.

A long pause.

“Because it was going to get worse,” he said, without looking back. “And I’m tired of watching.”

Then he disappeared into the crowd of blazers and gold crests.

Safina was left alone in front of the fountain, with her scholarship packet and twenty phones that probably already had her face online.

She had come to Sta. Maria to change her life.

She didn’t know that on day one, the school had already decided what her life was going to be: a target.

And she didn’t know that the only person who’d spoken up for her was Jin Yang.

The boy whose last name was on half the buildings.

The boy who looked at her like he knew exactly how it felt to be cursed.

---

The first bell rang.

Safina wiped her face, straightened her uniform, and walked through the gates.

The “welcome” was over.

The war was just starting.

*SAFINA*

The second day started with my photo on every screen in Sta. Maria.

I didn’t know until I walked into the main hall.

The walls here had digital boards. Announcements, club recruitment, sports scores. Usually.

Today, half of them showed me.

It was the photo from yesterday. Me, standing by the fountain. And Jin Yang, half-turned like he was about to walk away. You could see his profile. My mouth was open like I was talking to him.

Someone had zoomed in. Added text across the top in big red letters:

*“SCHOLARSHIP BITCH CLING TO JIN YANG??”*

Under it, comments were already scrolling on the side bar. The board was synced to the school app.

_@elise_deleon: eww gold digger_

_@marcus.lee: country bumpkin trying to climb_

_@trisha.c: she’s so smelly i can smell her from here_

_@kian.r: commoner alert. stay away from our jin_

_@unknown: nerd + poor + ugly \= leave_

My face burned. My hands went cold.

“Is that you?” a girl whispered, loud.

“Don’t touch her,” another one said, pulling her friend back. “She’s cursed or something.”

I wanted to disappear. I wanted the floor to open and swallow me with my duffel bag and my scholarship packet and my cheap shoes that suddenly felt like they were screaming _POOR_.

I kept my eyes down and walked fast. To class. To anywhere.

It didn’t matter. The whispers followed me.

“Bitch.”

“Slut.”

“Gold digger.”

“Commoner.”

“Country bumpkin.”

“Poor.”

“Ugly.”

“Nerd.”

“Smelly.”

Each word was a paper cut. By third period I was bleeding everywhere and no one could see it.

In Literature, someone “accidentally” knocked coffee on my desk. Brown liquid soaked into my notebook, the one I’d bought with my own allowance.

“Sorry,” the boy said, not sorry at all. “Didn’t see you there. Guess you blend in with the cheap furniture.”

Laughter.

In PE, my locker was filled with trash. Candy wrappers, tissue, and a note written in red pen:

_GO BACK TO THE MARKET WITH YOUR MOM._

I stood there staring at it until the bell rang.

No one sat beside me at lunch. The bench was empty in a 3-seat radius like I had a disease.

Maybe I did.

The worst part was I didn’t understand why. Yes, I was poor. Yes, I was on scholarship. But Sta. Maria had accepted me. The dean had signed my letter. Why were they so angry?

Then I remembered Jin.

The photo. Us talking.

Did they think... did they think I was trying to get close to him? To use him?

I didn’t even know him. He’d said two sentences to me.

But to them, that was enough. Talking to Jin Yang was a crime. And I was the criminal.

By the last bell, my phone had 43 notifications. All from numbers I didn’t know. All hate.

_die scholarship trash_

_jin would never look at you_

_you’re disgusting_

I turned it off. Shoved it in my bag.

I just wanted to go home. But the dorm was here. I had nowhere else.

I was walking across the courtyard, head down, when I heard it.

“Yo! Isn’t that her?”

“The gold digger.”

“Hey! Commoner!”

Three boys blocked the path. Same blazers. Same smirks. One of them had the coffee from earlier.

“Where you going, Safina Cerezo?” he said my name like it was dirty. “Valedictorian, right? So smart. So smart you thought you could touch Jin Yang.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Save it,” he cut me off. “Everyone saw the photo. You think because you’re smart you can climb? Think again.”

He stepped closer. I stepped back.

“Don’t you get it? People like you don’t belong here. You’re just here for us to laugh at.”

He raised his hand. Not to hit me. Just to scare me.

I flinched.

And then a voice cut through the courtyard like ice.

“Touch her and you’re expelled.”

### *JIN*

I heard my name and I knew it was bad.

I’d been in the admin office all morning. My father’s lawyer was on speaker. Something about shares. Something about the board meeting next month.

Then my phone buzzed. Once. Twice. Twenty times.

Group chats. Tagged photos. Videos.

Me. And the scholarship girl. Safina Cerezo.

The caption: _Jin Yang’s new pet project._

My stomach dropped.

I’d told them to leave her alone yesterday. I thought that would be enough. I was stupid.

I found the person who posted it in 10 minutes. Darian Cortez. Third year. His father was on the board, but not big board. Just loud board.

I cornered him by the parking lot.

“Delete it,” I said.

He looked up from his car, saw me, and grinned. “What, Jin? Jealous?”

“Delete the photo. Delete every repost. Now.”

“Or what? You gonna cry to daddy?” He laughed. “Come on. It’s just a poor girl. What’s it to you?”

I stepped closer. I could see his pulse jump in his neck.

“Or I have my family pull our shares from Sta. Maria,” I said quietly. “The Yang family owns 18%. We’re the second largest holders. You think your dad wants to explain to the board why tuition went up 40% next year because we pulled funding?”

His smile slipped.

“This isn’t about money,” I said. “This is about you using a student to get clout. Take it down.”

“You can’t—”

“Try me.”

He stared at me for a long time. Then he pulled out his phone with shaking hands and started deleting.

“Good,” I said. “Tell everyone else to too.”

I walked away before he could answer.

That should have been the end of it.

It wasn’t.

Because by the time I got to the courtyard, there was already a crowd.

And Safina was in the middle of it.

Three guys. One of them was Marco Valdez. His family wasn’t as rich as mine, but they were rich enough to be stupid. And they hated that I was richer.

“Jin!” Marco called when he saw me. “Perfect timing! We were just welcoming your girlfriend.”

She wasn’t my girlfriend. But saying that would make it worse.

Safina looked up at me. Her eyes were red. Not crying. Just... done. Like she’d cried all she could and now there was nothing left.

Something in my chest twisted.

“Leave her alone,” I said.

Marco spread his arms. “Why? Because you like her? Because you feel bad for the poor little scholarship case?”

The crowd murmured. Phones came out.

“Don’t,” I warned.

“What, you gonna hit me?” Marco stepped forward. “Come on. Hit the second richest family’s son. See what happens.”

He was testing me. They all were. The Yang name protected me, but it also painted a target on my back. People wanted to see if I’d break. If the curse would show.

The curse.

I kept my hands in my pockets. Because if I touched him, if he touched me and something happened...

“Last chance,” I said. “Walk away.”

“Make me,” Marco said.

He swung.

I didn’t move. I let him.

His fist grazed my jaw. It hurt, but not as much as the look on Safina’s face.

Gasps. Phones recording.

“Hit him back, Jin!” someone yelled.

“Fight him!”

I looked at Marco. Really looked at him.

“You think this is about her being poor,” I said, voice low so only he and Safina could hear. “It’s not. It’s about you being a coward. You need a crowd to feel big.”

His face went red. “Shut up—”

“I’m not going to fight you,” I said. “Because the second I do, this becomes about me. And she deserves better than being your excuse.”

I turned to Safina.

“Are you okay?”

She blinked. Like she didn’t expect me to ask. “I... yeah. I’m fine.”

“You’re lying,” I said. Then, louder: “Everyone. Back to class. Now.”

No one moved.

“NOW.”

That was my father’s voice. Not mine. But it worked.

The crowd scattered. Marco stayed for one second too long, glaring, then followed.

It was just me and Safina.

The courtyard was quiet except for the fountain.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“For what?” she asked, voice small.

“For yesterday. For today. For them using me to hurt you.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t do anything.”

“I didn’t stop it fast enough.”

We stood there in awkward silence.

“I don’t want special treatment,” she said finally. “I just want to go to class.”

“I know,” I said. “I’ll make sure you can.”

“How? You’re Jin Yang. People are scared of you.”

“Good,” I said. “Let them be.”

She looked at me then. Really looked. Like she was trying to figure out if I was dangerous or just tired.

Probably both.

“I should go,” she said. “Before I’m late.”

“Wait,” I said before she could walk away. “Do you... do you need help? With anything? Books. A place to eat where they won’t bother you.”

She laughed, but it was bitter. “You think a table will stop them?”

“No,” I admitted. “But it’s a start.”

Safina studied me. “Why are you doing this? You don’t know me.”

I almost said _because no one should go through this alone._

I almost said _because I know what it’s like to have people avoid you._

Instead I said, “Because someone should.”

She nodded once. “Okay. Thanks, Jin.”

She walked away.

I watched her go. And I felt it.

That old, familiar cold.

The curse.

I hadn’t touched her. I hadn’t even gotten close. But talking to her in public was enough. The whispers would start again. _Jin’s talking to her. She’s next._

But for once, I didn’t care.

### *SAFINA*

That night, the photos were gone.

I checked. The school app, the group chats my roommate showed me, everything. Deleted.

In their place was a new announcement from the Dean’s office:

_Bullying of any kind will result in immediate suspension. This includes online harassment. Sta. Maria University does not tolerate discrimination based on financial status._

Everyone knew who made that happen.

The next morning, no one called me names to my face.

Behind my back? Still.

But to my face, silence.

It was worse, in a way. Because now I knew they were scared. Not of me. Of him.

Jin Yang.

I saw him at lunch. Sitting alone at a corner table, like always. People gave him space. The same space they gave me, but for a different reason.

He looked up when I walked in. Our eyes met.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t wave.

He just moved his bag from the seat across from him.

An invitation.

I stood there for a long time. My heart was pounding. If I sat, the rumors would start again. If I didn’t, I’d be eating alone for the next 4 years.

I thought about my mama. About the letter. About how I got here to learn, not to hide.

I walked over. Sat down.

The whole cafeteria went quiet.

Jin didn’t say anything. He just pushed a bottle of water toward me.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

He nodded.

We ate in silence. And for the first time since I got to Sta. Maria, I didn’t feel alone.

I didn’t know then that sitting with Jin Yang would be the most dangerous thing I’d ever do.

I didn’t know that the curse wasn’t just about people dying.

It was about what happened to the people who chose to stay.

But that’s a story for tomorrow.

*SAFINA*

Three days.

Three days of quiet hallways.

Three days without anyone yelling “commoner” behind my back.

Three days where I could eat lunch without half the cafeteria staring.

I thought it was over.

I thought after Dean’s announcement, after they deleted all the posts, after I sat next to Jin at lunch, that meant we won.

I was wrong.

It was Wednesday. 6:30 AM.

I was at my locker, fixing my notebook, when Kuya, the dorm guard, handed me something.

“For you, miss,” he said. “Someone left it at the guard house. No name.”

A red envelope.

Thick. Rough paper. The kind used for weddings. And for funerals.

My stomach dropped.

“Thank you po,” I whispered.

I went to the bathroom to open it.

Inside: a printed copy of my photo. My ID picture from the scholarship application. I was wearing my uniform. Smiling, because Mama told me, “Smile, anak, this is your achievement.”

But there was a big red X drawn over my face. The marker bled through to the back.

And underneath, in black, shaky handwriting:

_“We’re not done yet poor commoner! This is just the beginning so Enjoy Your hell day at Sta. Maria University!!”_

I dropped the envelope.

I didn’t cry right away. First shock. Then anger. Then all the fear I’d been hiding came rushing back at once.

A death threat.

Literally. An X over my face.

I sat on the cold bathroom floor.

“How long?” I whispered to myself. “How long are they going to do this?”

I thought of Mama. Selling at the market right now while I was here.

I thought of Kuya. 16, still in public school, who told me, “Ate, you’re our hope. When you graduate, it’ll be our turn next.”

It’s just me.

I’m all they have.

If I go home now, what would I tell Mama? “Ma, I’m scared, let’s go home?” Then we’d go back to debt. To me studying under one lightbulb at night. To the dream I worked four years for.

I can’t.

I wiped my tears hard with my sleeve. Like I could erase them.

“I have to be strong,” I told the mirror. My voice was shaking but I forced it steady. “I have to finish this.”

But when I walked out, my hands were still trembling.

And I didn’t know if I should hide the red envelope or show it to Dean.

What if they said, “It’s because you got close to Jin”? What if it was my fault?

So I hid it under my mattress first.

I didn’t know that morning, someone was already watching me.

### *JIN*

I hate Wednesdays.

Wednesdays are when the board sends me reports. When my father asks if “the school issue” is handled. When I remember that having my name on buildings doesn’t stop people from dying around me.

But this Wednesday was different.

I saw her first.

Safina. Walking to class. Head down. Shoulders tense. She had that look — like she just came from crying in the bathroom.

Something was wrong.

I almost went to her. But the last time I did, a red X showed up online.

So I watched. From far away. Like a coward.

Second period, I got a message from one of the janitors. Old man. Quiet.

_“Sir Jin. Someone left a red envelope at the scholarship girl’s locker this morning. A guy in a hoodie. Didn’t see his face.”_

My blood went cold.

A red envelope. At Sta. Maria, it means only two things.

An invitation. Or a threat.

I found her at lunch. Same table. Same corner.

“Are you okay?” I asked right away.

She looked up and forced a smile. “I’m fine. Why?”

“Don’t lie to me, Safina.”

She went quiet. Looked around. Then slowly dragged her bag from under the table. Opened it. Pulled out the red envelope.

She handed it to me. Her hands were shaking.

When I opened it and saw the X. Saw the words.

I wasn’t angry at them. I was angry at myself.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I whispered.

“What was I supposed to do?” she answered, voice low. “Get you to expel them again? Then they’ll just come back worse? I’m tired, Jin. I’m tired of being scared.”

Tears fell again. She wiped them fast. “I have to finish this. For Mama. For Kuya. I’m all they’re counting on.”

That broke me.

Because I knew that weight. Being the only one. The trade my family made to keep me alive, and now I have to pay for it my whole life.

“Safina,” I said. “This isn’t your fault.”

“Then whose fault is it?” she snapped, then went quiet. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“No,” I said. “You’re allowed to be angry.”

I looked at the letter again. _Enjoy Your hell day._

Hell day. That meant they were planning something today.

I stood up. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“To Dean’s office. Then to the CCTV room. Someone left that. Someone saw who left it.”

“Jin, what if—”

“What if they come after you again? Then let them come after me too.”

She stared at me. “Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” I said. “I know you don’t deserve any of this.”

### *SAFINA*

We were in Dean’s office. I was shaking. Jin was calm, but his jaw was tight.

We showed him the envelope.

Dean’s face changed. “This is serious. We will file a police report.”

“Good,” Jin said. “And I want the CCTV footage from 5AM to 7AM at the dorm entrance. Now.”

“Mr. Yang, that requires—”

“I’ll have my father call the board in 10 minutes if you don’t,” Jin said. No arrogance. Just fact.

Five minutes later, we were in the CCTV room.

We watched. 6:12 AM. A guy in a hoodie, cap pulled low. Left the envelope with the guard, then hurried off.

You couldn’t see his face. But his stance... it was familiar.

“Pause,” Jin said. “Zoom in on the shoes.”

Limited edition. Valdez brand. Released last month. 80,000 pesos.

Marco Valdez.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked.

“No,” Jin said. “But he’s the only one with motive and money to not get caught.”

We walked out. I was quiet the whole time.

When we got to the courtyard, Marco was already there. With his group. Like he was waiting.

“Yo, Jin,” he said. “What’s up? Looking for me?”

Jin didn’t answer. He walked straight to him.

“Give me your shoes,” Jin said.

His group laughed. “What?”

“Your shoes. Now.”

Marco looked at him, then at me behind Jin. “This about your little girlfriend again? The one with the red letter? Oops, did I say that out loud?”

My heart stopped.

He knew.

Jin stepped forward. “Last time I asked nicely. This time I’m not asking.”

“Or what? You gonna tell daddy?” Marco laughed. “Everyone’s scared of you, Jin. The cursed prince. But not me.”

He swung first. Again.

This time, I moved without thinking.

I stepped between them.

“Stop!” I shouted.

And Marco’s fist stopped. One inch from my face.

The whole courtyard froze.

Because everyone knew the rule. Don’t touch Jin Yang.

But no one knew the rule about touching the girl with Jin Yang.

Marco looked at his fist. Then at me. Then at Jin.

“What,” he whispered. “What are you?”

I didn’t know either.

Jin grabbed my arm and pulled me behind him. “Don’t ever do that again,” he whispered to me. Angry. Scared.

“Why?” I asked. “I thought—”

“You thought you wouldn’t get hurt?” he cut me off. “You could have died.”

But I didn’t.

And he didn’t flinch when he grabbed me.

That’s when I realized.

The curse didn’t touch me.

### *JIN*

I felt it the second I touched her arm.

Nothing.

No burn. No cold. No voice in my head saying _she’s next._

For 17 years, everyone who got close to me got hurt.

Teachers who patted my shoulder. Kids who tried to be friends. Nurses who checked my temperature.

All of them. Except her.

I pulled my hand back like I got burned anyway.

Safina was staring at me. Confused. Scared.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “You grabbed me. But... nothing happened.”

Marco was still standing there. “What the hell was that?”

I ignored him. My mind was racing.

If the curse didn’t affect her, that meant—

No. Don’t think about it. Don’t hope.

“Dean!” I yelled. “We need to talk. Now.”

### *SAFINA*

We were back in the office. Door closed this time.

Jin showed the envelope again. This time with the CCTV.

“Marco Valdez,” Jin said. “Suspension. Police report. And I want a restraining order.”

“Mr. Yang,” Dean said. “We need proof.”

“Then get it,” Jin said. “Because if anything happens to her, the Yang family pulls all funding. And I will personally make sure your name is on every news site as the dean who ignored a death threat.”

Loud. Direct. No beating around the bush.

Dean nodded. “We’ll handle it.”

When we walked out, it was still quiet.

“Jin,” I said. “Why didn’t you get hurt when you grabbed me?”

He stopped walking. Looked off into the distance.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “17 years. You’re the first.”

I went silent.

17 years of being alone. Of people dying because they tried to be kind to him.

And I’m the first who wasn’t.

“Maybe it’s because,” I whispered. “Maybe it’s because I don’t believe in curses.”

He looked at me. “Maybe.”

We walked back to class in silence. But this time the silence wasn’t fear.

It was hope.

### *SAFINA LATER THAT NIGHT*

I’m in the dorm. Still holding the red envelope.

I read it again. _Enjoy Your hell day._

Well, I survived hell day.

I called Mama.

“Anak? How’s school?”

“It’s okay, Ma,” I said, forcing my voice to sound strong. “Just a small problem, but it’s okay now.”

“Don’t give up, okay?” Mama said. “This is for us.”

“I won’t, Ma,” I said. “I won’t give up.”

After hanging up, I looked out the window. The campus was quiet.

But I knew. It’s not over yet.

They said “we’re just getting started.”

But now, I’m not alone anymore.

I have Jin.

### *JIN LATER THAT NIGHT*

I’m in my room. Same as every night. Big. Quiet. Empty.

Except tonight.

I keep thinking about her hand. When I grabbed her. Warm. Alive. Not cold like everyone else.

The curse was supposed to be absolute. Trade half our lives for mine. In exchange, no one can touch me without dying.

So why her?

I called my father’s lawyer. “Check the records of the trade. 17 years ago. Who did we make the deal with.”

“Young master,” he said. “That information is sealed.”

“Unseal it,” I said. “Because I think I found the loophole.”

I don’t know if Safina is the loophole.

I don’t know if she can break the curse.

But for the first time in my life, I want to find out.

Because if she can, then maybe... maybe I can stop being the reason people die.

And maybe she can stop being the reason people bully.

Maybe we can both be free.

Outside, the campus was quiet.

But somewhere, Marco was probably planning something.

And somewhere, Safina was probably crying, then wiping her tears and deciding to stay.

Just like me.

We’re both staying.

Hell day or not.