The swiftness with which Greene's parents tracked me down left me reeling. Their accusations, while unpleasant, weren't without merit. I had indeed been involved with three previous men, all of whom met untimely and mysterious ends. This very fact was why I had turned my back on love, a decision I had made to protect both myself and others.
"You tracked me down?" I asked, staring incredulously at the intruders.
"And we found plenty of dirt on you, you can't hide behind a fake look," Greene's father growled and I was taken aback.
"Stay away from our son or you'll regret it," Greene's mother warned, her voice filled with hatred.
"Don't waste your breath," I snapped, unwilling to cower in the face of their intimidation. "I don't need in-laws like you. And tell your son to leave me alone!"
With that, I slammed the door in their faces, my anger burning like a furnace in my chest. How dare they disrespect me simply because I lacked the wealth they prized so highly?
I returned to the dining room, my family's troubled expressions greeting me like a slap in the face.
"Who was at the door? We heard shouting, but we decided to let you handle it," my father said, his voice filled with concern.
"Greene's parents," I replied, my voice heavy with the weight of their accusations. "They warned me to stay away from their son."
My mother's voice was a venomous whip, lashing out at me with familiar vitriol. "You always bring shame to this family," my mother hissed, the sting of her words causing me to clench my fists in frustration. "Your sister is nothing like you. You're worthless."
Without a word, I turned and left the house, refusing to allow her insults to penetrate any deeper into my already bruised ego.
I boarded a taxi, the familiar commute to the orphanage a grim reminder of the events that had led me to this point. My reputation had been tarnished, the rumors of my past haunting me like a malicious shadow. The families of the men who had died under mysterious circumstances lacked the means to seek legal recourse, but their accusations had been enough to leave me blacklisted from most avenues of employment.
The orphanage had been my last resort, their low pay a cruel reality check for a woman once lauded for her intelligence and charm.
To conceal my identity, I donned a red wig, an attempt to mask the black hair that had become a symbol of my infamy. Despite my efforts, there were some who still recognized me, their knowing glances a constant reminder of my past.
In addition to my red wig, I also wore black contact lenses to conceal my natural blue eyes, which made it all the more surprising when Greene's parents recognized me and my troubled past. Their wealth and influence clearly granted them access to information that others might not have.
The taxi jerked to a halt, and I disembarked, my steps leaden with the weight of the day's events. I trudged toward the orphanage, the bleak institution my only refuge in a world that had turned its back on me.
I headed to my morning class to teach 12th-grade English and Literature. I entered the classroom, my presence an instant silencer to the usual din of teenage chatter. With a curt nod, I acknowledged their greetings and commenced the lesson, attempting to immerse myself in the familiar routine of education.
As I delved into the intricacies of English and literature, my lecture was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of Kelvin. "Ah, Kelvin, how thoughtful of you to join us late," I said with a hint of sarcasm. He let out a dismissive hiss and sauntered to his seat, propping his feet up on the desk as if he were in his own living room.
I bit back the frustration that threatened to spill over as Kelvin flaunted his disregard for authority, his insolent smirk daring me to respond. "Kelvin, remove your feet from the desk," I said through gritted teeth, my professionalism strained to the breaking point.
You know the type - a student who delights in challenging your authority. Kelvin was that student, the class troublemaker with a charming smile and good looks that seemed to make him invincible. He reveled in the attention from his female classmates and believed he could get away with disrespecting anyone.
"Miss Eva, I didn't interrupt your lesson, so don't act like I'm bothering you. Unless, of course, you have a personal issue with me," he said with a smirk, prompting snickers from the class. I shot them a stern glance, and the room fell silent once more.
"Kelvin, this is a classroom, not a social club. Please focus on learning," I said, continuing with the lesson. Kelvin was a student who had grown accustomed to being reprimanded, so scolding him would have little effect. He had become desensitized to punishment, making it a waste of time to try to reason with him.
Unfazed by my reprimand, Kelvin persisted in his antics, his disruptions a steady undercurrent to my lesson. Despite my attempts to maintain focus, his irreverent remarks elicited laughter from the class, their camaraderie with the unruly student an infuriating reminder of my struggle for respect.
As the lesson drew to a close, I seized the opportunity to turn the tables, calling on Kelvin to answer a question about mythology, his attention captured only when his seatmate nudged him into awareness.
"Are you talking to me?" Kelvin asked, feigning surprise.
"No, I'm talking to myself," I replied dryly, prompting laughter from the class.
Kelvin stood up, adjusting his shirt with a confident smirk. "Honestly, I don't see the point of what we're learning. If everything you learned in school was so useful, you wouldn't be teaching here," he said, his comment met with stifled giggles.
"Save that answer for the exam, and you'll see its usefulness," I retorted, dismissively.
Unfazed by my retort, Kelvin summoned applause from his sycophantic classmates, his ego gluttonous for adoration. I ignored the jeering and turned my attention to more respectful students, expertly fielding their answers and assigning homework.
As I headed to my next class, grade 11, a colleague intercepted me midway. "Someone's looking for you," she said, her words trailing off as she walked away.
I turned towards the waiting room, curiosity getting the better of me. That's when I saw him - Greene. My expression shifted, and I felt a surge of emotions. He noticed me and rushed over, grabbing my hands, which I quickly pulled away.
"What are you doing here? How did you find my workplace?" I demanded, trying to process how he'd tracked me down.
"Eva, please listen," Greene implored, his words falling on deaf ears.
I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You think showing up at my workplace would make me want to hear you out?"
"Eva, please, I'm sorry," Greene insisted, his desperation evident.
I shook my head, folding my arms. "Your parents already made it clear what they want. They came to my house this morning, asking me to stay away from you. So, please, just leave me alone. I told you yesterday, it's over."
Despite my clear rejection, Greene persisted, his grip on my arm tightening as if he could anchor me in place.
"What do you want from me?" I asked, my words sharp as a blade. "I told you about my past, about the three guys who died while dating me. Your parents will hold me responsible if anything happens to you, just like they've already accused me of wrongdoing. Find someone else!"
"No," Greene replied with a dogged determination. "Our relationship deserves a chance. I can't let you go like this. Our three months together mean something to me"
I shook my head. "It's better this way. You never told me about your family's status. I don't see a future with you, and it's better to end things now."
Greene's voice took on a pleading tone. "I was going to tell you about my family when we met them. It was supposed to be a surprise, but it didn't go as planned. I'll do anything to be with you."
"What if you end up dying?" I asked, my patience fraying.
Greene's response was muted, his silence revealing his doubt. "Answer me," I pressed.
"You can't say those deaths were caused by you. It could all be coincidence," Greene replied, his voice filled with desperation.
"All three of my past boyfriends died while we were dating," I said, my tone seething with frustration. "You call that a coincidence?"
"Whatever the issue is, we can work through it," he pleaded, his voice hollow with hope.
"There's nothing to work through," I replied, my words an impenetrable wall of rejection. "I have a class to teach. Please leave."
As I turned and walked away, my mind reeled with regret. If only I had stayed single. The dangers of loving and losing weighed heavily on my soul, my heart wracked with the pain of past relationships gone awry.
I made my way to the next class when the sound of a commotion interrupted my steps. Intrigued, I traced the source, arriving just in time to witness two boys locked in a brutal brawl.
Students cheered, their exhilaration matching the violence of the scene, while the teachers stood frozen, paralyzed by fear. The instructors, upon seeing me, hastily approached and urged me to intervene.
Although I disliked breaking up fights, they pushed me forward. With a reluctance bordering on dread, I approached the vicious struggle, stepping between the two fighters in a desperate attempt to end the violence. But in the maelstrom of fists and fury, an unexpected blow caught me off-guard, knocking me to the ground.