The note in Ryan's palm unsettled him. He thought he was ready to face whatever it said, but just seeing the handwriting threw him into disarray.
It was definitely Bella's handwriting—distinctive and elegant, brimming with vitality, just like the little angel who used to hover around him four years ago.
The piece of paper wasn't small, but the message was fragmented, almost too simplistic.
Ryan chuckled at himself sarcastically, took a few deep breaths to calm down.
Really, the headmaster had rattled off such a mess of words that he couldn't think straight.
His mind drifted back four years, and unexpectedly, a flicker of hope sparked within him.
He had thought the note would contain something crucial, like Bella's current phone number, but instead, it was just these few airy lines, leaving him deeply disappointed.
"Why am I getting so worked up?"
