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The following day, Danielle arrived at school early once more, her steps hesitant with a mixture of anticipation and worry.

To her relief, there was no immediate sign of the usual bullies lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce on her vulnerabilities. Perhaps Minji had finally managed to sway Haerin from plotting more bullying, or maybe the usual bullies had opted for an unscheduled hiatus following the repercussions of yesterday's suspensions.

A glimmer of hope flickered within Danielle as she entertained these possibilities. However, her optimism was short-lived as she approached her locker.

With a sinking feeling, she realized that her locker had been tampered with yet again. The contents within lay in disarray – her textbooks tattered, her art supplies shattered, her P.E. shoes mutilated, and the spare clothes she had stashed away were now nothing but rags. Among the wreckage, one item struck a particularly painful chord: a slightly torn photograph of herself and her late mother, marred with crimson marks.

Danielle's heart clenched at the sight. Those precious photographs were her only tangible connections to her mother, with the one in her locker now defiled by disrespectful scribbles and defacements.

As tears threatened to spill from her eyes, Danielle clutched the desecrated photo to her chest, seeking solace in its familiarity. Grateful for the solitude of the early morning, she allowed herself a moment of vulnerable release. However, her respite was fleeting as a figure approached, interrupting her solitary anguish.

It was Kang Haerin, once again intruding upon Danielle's private turmoil.

Haerin twirled a pair of scissors in her left hand, the glint of metal reflecting her malevolent intent, while her right hand gripped a red marker, its tip stained with the remnants of her destructive actions on the photograph. Her smirk, infamous and chilling, adorned her face like a mask of cruelty.

Danielle's heart shattered as she witnessed the scene before her. Yes, she loved Haerin, but this was beyond bearable.

Tears streamed down Danielle's cheeks as she locked eyes with Haerin, her gaze a desperate plea for comprehension amidst the chaos.

Haerin's facade wavered momentarily, her expression betraying a hint of surprise at Danielle's raw anguish. However, the cocky demeanor swiftly returned, concealing any trace of empathy.

"Really, Haerin? What have I ever done to you to deserve this? Isn't this a little too much?" Danielle's voice trembled with a mixture of hurt and confusion, her fingers clutching the defiled photograph to her chest as if seeking solace in its damaged familiarity.

Haerin didn't know Danielle's mother had passed away. In fact, she didn't know anything about Danielle's family.

Danielle realized she never got the chance to share much about herself with Haerin during their time together.

Maybe it was because they didn't spend enough time together, or maybe Haerin just never asked.

Haerin chuckled mockingly. "Too much?" she asked, moving closer and playing with Danielle's hair using the scissors. "This is nothing compared to what you and your family did to me, Danielle," she whispered, her resentment palpable.

Danielle swatted away the scissors, unable to fathom Haerin's accusations. "What are you saying? We didn't do anything to you," she protested, her voice trembling with anger yet weakened by the proximity to Haerin, who seemed to drain her strength.

Haerin's laughter was a bitter echo in the tense atmosphere. "Playing innocent now, Danielle? Never bothered to question your whore mother?" Her words dripped with disgust, fueling Danielle's rage.

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