I was a plus-size girl, weighing about 220 pounds. On graduation day, I finally gathered the courage to confess my feelings to Calvin Preston, the heartthrob I had been crushing on for three years.

Surprisingly, he said yes!

To celebrate, we went out that night. But things took a dark turn. I was tricked into drinking too much and was drugged. Calvin and his buddies violated me and, to make matters worse, they filmed it all.

The next thing I knew, the video had gone viral online with a cruel caption, “Who’s brave enough to try a 220-pound girl?”

As the humiliating video spread like wildfire, the shock and shame were too much for my grandfather to bear. It broke his heart, quite literally.

On graduation day, I waited for hours at the school gates. This might be my last chance to see Calvin, and I didn't want to miss it. I yearned to tell him how I felt, even though I was certain he'd reject a girl of my size.

Still, speaking my truth was an act of courage I wouldn't regret.

As I nervously fidgeted, picking at the last bit of loose skin around my fingernails, Calvin finally emerged from the school building.

"C-Calvin! Wait up!" I called out nervously.

Calvin turned, the evening sun casting a warm glow on his face. His white and blue school uniform accentuated his youthful handsomeness – he was the boy I'd secretly adored for three years.

"What is it?" His voice was as captivating as ever.

"I... I know this might seem presumptuous, but I needed to tell you... I like you! I've liked you since the first day I saw you at the start of school! I don't expect anything, I just wanted you to know. I... I hope you'll always be happy!"

I summoned all my courage to say this, then turned to leave, but Calvin called after me.

"Deborah, aren't you going to wait for my answer?"

I froze, turning back in disbelief.

Under my shocked yet hopeful gaze, the boy who seemed to glow like a beacon spoke softly.

"I like you too. Actually, I've had my eye on you. Let's grab a late-night snack together. Meet me at Twilight Club at 9 PM."

Calvin flashed me a gentle smile before leaving the school grounds. I watched him go, my heart pounding.

Had my dreams really come true?

In my naivety, I missed the contempt and malice lurking in Calvin's eyes.

At home, I tried on outfit after outfit in front of my closet mirror. I felt discouraged, thinking my size made every piece of clothing look unflattering on me.

After much deliberation, I decided to dip into my savings. This was money I'd been setting aside to buy Grandpa a new wheelchair, but I figured I could spare a little for now.

I dragged my best friend, Zoe Simpson, to the mall to help me shop for clothes.

It was my first date, after all, and I wanted to look my best.

"You're telling me Calvin Preston agreed to go out with you? Tonight? Are you pulling my leg? Is he blind or something?" Zoe stared at me in disbelief, her eyes nearly popping out of her head.

"I can hardly believe it myself," I admitted, "but he said he's noticed me for a while now. He's so kind. I really like him. It's just that I..."

I trailed off, glancing at my reflection in the mirror, feeling self-conscious.

"Well, whatever the case, your wish came true. I hope you two will be happy together," Zoe said. "But Deborah, you really should think about losing some weight. And be careful tonight, okay? Text me when you get home..."

I nodded along to Zoe's rambling, not noticing the strange flicker in her eyes.

At 8:30 PM, after what I considered careful primping, I prepared to leave.

Grandpa was sitting in the living room, ready with some last-minute advice.

"Deborah, be careful when you go out, and come back early, okay? I will be waiting at home for you," Grandpa reminded me.

I looked up and flashed a bright smile at him.

"Got it, Grandpa!"

Little did I know, that would be the last time I ever got annoyed by his nagging.

I nervously arrived at Twilight Club.

The moment I stepped inside, the loud music overwhelmed me, and I felt a little out of place in the crowd.

"Deborah, over here!"

I followed the voice and saw the door to a private booth open.

Calvin was halfway out, waving at me.

When I entered the booth, there were only two people: Calvin and another guy. I recognized him. He was Calvin's close friend, Jack Wilson.

"Deborah, this is my friend Jack Wilson. Jack, this is my 'girlfriend,' Deborah Hope."

Jack glanced at me with a half-smile, his eyes showing a mix of disdain and amusement. His stare made me uncomfortable as he slowly curled his lips into a smirk.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Jack Wilson. I hope you have a good evening."

After drinking the glass of wine Calvin handed me, I started to feel dizzy and quickly lost consciousness.

Right before I completely blacked out, I heard Jack's voice.

"You're really going for this? You’ve got no limits, huh?"

"Chubby feels better, man! Just wait, who wouldn’t envy us? No one's ever done a fat girl like this!"

Grandpa, help me.

I couldn't even say the words before everything went dark.

When I opened my eyes again, it was already the next afternoon.

I groggily sat up, realizing I was in a strange hotel room, completely naked and in pain.

I was groggy, and disturbing fragments of memory flashed through my mind.

Calvin and Jack...they violated me.

If I wasn't mistaken, they even recorded a video.

Fear and helplessness instantly took over my mind.

"What should I do? My life... it's ruined! Call the police! I need to call the police!"

Just as the thought crossed my mind, my phone started vibrating. I frantically searched for it, finally finding it under a pile of clothes.

It was Zoe calling.

In a panic, I answered the call, ready to pour out all my grievances, but the next words I heard hit me like a bolt of lightning.

"Deborah, thank goodness you answered! Where are you? Are you okay? You need to come to the city hospital right away! Your grandpa had a heart attack, and it looks like he might not make it!"

Her barrage of questions left me stunned, but that final sentence shattered me completely.

Grandpa... something happened to Grandpa!

I didn't have time to think about anything else. Throwing on my clothes, despite the pain in my body I rushed to catch a cab to the hospital.

But I was too late.

By the time I arrived, a white sheet—the thin line between life and death—already lay between Grandpa and me.

I collapsed to the floor, crying uncontrollably.

When I was just a baby, Grandpa had bought me from human traffickers. He saw me crying, helpless, and with all his savings, he rescued me, sparing me from a future of being crippled and forced to beg on the streets.

Back then, I was wrapped in a blanket embroidered with the word "Hope." My grandfather, Debron, wanted my name to reflect his own, so he named me Deborah Hope, saying I was a gift—like a symbol of hope, meant to bring new meaning to life.

Grandpa and I had always depended on each other.

Throughout my life, he gave me everything, always saving the best for me. He was the person I was closest to, yet I couldn’t even be there for him in his final moments.

Zoe lifted me up, pretending to wipe away my tears with concern.

“Zoe… what exactly happened?”

Through my sobs, I managed to speak, "How... how did Grandpa die?"

Zoe's eyes were red, and she looked at me with hesitation, as if struggling with whether to tell me.

After a long pause, she finally spoke.

"Deborah... last night, are you... are you okay? It’s all my fault. If only I had stopped you, none of this would’ve happened!"

I froze. How did Zoe know about last night?

"How do you know..."

My voice was hoarse.

With her eyes brimming with tears, Zoe bit her lip and handed me Grandpa's phone after tapping a few times.

"Last night, when you weren't answering your phone and didn’t come home, Grandpa got worried and called me. While we were out looking for you, he suddenly received this video. It was when he saw this... that his heart gave out."

The explicit content on the screen burned my eyes.

The girl in the video... it was me—drugged and helpless—and the ones recording it were Calvin and Jack.

I clutched my head in agony, letting out a piercing scream.

Seeing my reaction, Zoe quickly shut off the video and hugged me, pretending to console me with false sympathy.

"It's okay, it's okay, Deborah. It's over now. I know it's not your fault... I'm still here for you."

I couldn’t fully grasp what had happened that night, but I knew that within just a few hours, the video had spread across the internet.

Hateful comments flooded my social media. People who knew me whispered and pointed behind my back. Under the crushing weight of public shame, I threw myself into the river.

…

When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed.

I tried to sit up, but my body felt too weak.

"Don't move. You're still recovering. Eat something first."

I looked toward the voice. It was a well-maintained middle-aged woman, though exhaustion was etched on her face. She had a gentle beauty, and there was something familiar about her eyes.

Beside her stood a middle-aged man, his eyes bloodshot and his hair half-turned gray. He stared at me, his eyes red and filled with emotion.

“Who are you? Why am I here?”

"Sweetheart, I’m your mother!"

What...!?

After talking with them and reviewing the DNA report, I finally believed that the couple in front of me were indeed my long-lost parents.

According to my mother, after I was born, I had health issues and stayed in an incubator. That was when human traffickers infiltrated the hospital and kidnapped me, along with two other babies. I was only two months old at the time, and by the time they tried to track us down, we had disappeared without a trace.

They spent years searching for me but had no luck—until the DNA database matched my blood sample during a health exam before the college entrance exams.

My parents traveled a great distance to reunite with me, only to find me just as I was about to jump into the river, and they saved me.

No, it wasn’t a "jump."

It wasn't a suicide attempt—it was attempted murder.

I never intended to end my life.

After Grandpa’s passing, as I was leaving to handle his funeral arrangements, I was drugged and knocked out. Before I lost consciousness, I saw his face—it was Calvin.

Afraid that I would expose what had happened, they threw me off the bridge, staging it to look like I had taken my own life.

Everyone believed I’d committed suicide under the pressure of public shame, but I knew the truth—it was murder.

“How long has it been?” I asked.

My mom’s eyes were filled with tears again.

“It’s been two years already, sweetheart. You barely survived.”

It was only then that I realized when my parents pulled me from the water, I was barely clinging to life. I had been submerged for too long, suffocating on the edge of death.