Mr. Robertson’s expression hardened as he looked at Kelly. “Well, that’s a rather unfortunate turn of events. But it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been accepted. We have a place for you at the college, Pamela, and the trust fund will cover all your expenses.”
Kelly sputtered, “You can’t just come in here and disrupt our lives! She’s my responsibility now, and I say she’s not going.”
Mr. Robertson raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid you don’t have a say in this, ma’am. Pamela is 18, and this is her future. And if you’ve been withholding her acceptance letter and trying to derail her education, that’s a serious matter.”
I felt a newfound sense of determination. “I’m going, Kelly,” I said firmly. “I’m going to college, just like my mom wanted.”
Kelly glared at me, but I could see the fear in her eyes. She knew she was losing her hold over me. “Fine,” she snapped. “Go. But don’t expect me to be here when you come crawling back.”
I picked up the pink suitcase that Mr. Robertson had brought. It was filled with mementos from my mom, pictures, letters, and notes of encouragement. I held it close to my chest, feeling a connection to her that I hadn’t felt in years.
Mr. Robertson smiled at me. “Are you ready to start this new chapter of your life, Pamela?”
I nodded, a smile spreading across my face. “Yes, I am.”
As we walked away from the house, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I was finally free from Kelly’s cruelty and on my way to a future that my mom had envisioned for me. And I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, I was strong enough to face them. I had my mom’s love and support, even from beyond the grave, and that gave me the courage to pursue my dreams.
Over the next few weeks, I settled into college life. I made new friends, took interesting classes, and discovered a passion for animal science. Mr. Robertson became a mentor to me, and I often visited his office to talk about my mom and my future.
One day, as I was walking across campus, I received a call from Kelly. I almost didn’t answer, but something made me pick up. “Pamela,” she said, her voice sounding different, almost hesitant. “I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I was wrong, and I hope you can forgive me.”
