Today, a sudden spike in temperature overwhelmed Elin in class, leaving her too weak to make it back to her dorm alone. A professor asked a classmate, known as the young man, to assist. At first, Elin managed to walk with support, but eventually, her strength waned completely.
“Elin, do girls from Ambrosia always push themselves this hard?” The young man quipped, light-hearted, “So small, yet so spirited.”
Unable to muster a smile, Elin felt her discomfort grow. The young man, sensing her plight, offered his support. “Elin, should I help you up?”
“I’m alright,” Elin insisted.
‘s
But the young man wasn’t convinced and sought the dorm supervisor’s aid to escort Elin back to her room.
With the dorm emptied for the holidays, Elin found herself in solitude, the stillness only punctuated by the rigorous schedule of a diligent student abroad.
The dorm supervisor watched on, her heart full of empathy for Elin.
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Even when ill and voiceless, Elin insisted on attending classes. She was undoubtedly pushing herself too hard.
The dorm supervisor offered remedies, filled cups with steaming water, and helped Elin with medication.
In the midst of fevered delirium, as Elin clung to the supervisor’s hand, her thoughts turned homeward. “Mom…” she whispered, her grip tightening, tears carving paths down her cheeks. “I really want to go home… But he doesn’t want to see me…”
Elin’s words, steeped in her native tongue, were lost on the supervisor, who sensed the universal yearning for a mother’s comfort and cradled her kindly. “Dear, if home is where your heart lies, why not visit?”
Tears cascaded from Elin’s eyes, resembling pearls as she gripped the supervisor’s hand. At nineteen, she grappled with the sting of unrequited love for the first time, and the pain was profound. A void echoed within her, a space hollowed out by heartache. She vowed never to let her heart bleed this way again.
Through her sickness, Elin never thought to pause her studies. By the dead of night, her fever broke.
Dawn found Elin stirring early, trekking to the cafeteria for a meal before lectures.
Passing under the tree from the previous night, the silhouette flashed through her mind again. It bore such resemblance to Erick.
Yet, Elin swiftly dismissed this notion.
The relentless white of the snow was taxing on Elin’s eyes until a sudden glint of red captured her focus.
Glancing downward, Elin noticed a red four-leaf clover emerging from the snowy blanket. She doubted her eyes, blinking hard, yet the image persisted.
Stooping, Elin reached for what she thought was a four-leaf clover, only to unearth a rose gold necklace with an intricately crafted pendant. The craftsmanship was both exquisite and strikingly beautiful. By a stroke of coincidence, the rose gold frame of the clover bore tiny engraved initials. Peering closer, she saw “EL” etched upon it! It was a serendipitous moment, stumbling upon a necklace that mirrored her initials.
Elin admired the beauty of the necklace but acknowledged that it wasn’t hers to keep. She turned it in at the school’s lost and found.
Such opulent items often had serial numbers to identify their rightful owners.
Three days afterward, Elin’s phone rang with news from the school’s lost and found department. Astonishingly, the luxury brand had confirmed the necklace was Elin’s, the ID number a perfect match.
With confusion swirling, Elin collected the necklace. She was sure she’d never bought it, and a check with the brand’s customer service yielded no insight. Privacy policies restricted them from revealing the purchaser.
Left with no leads, Elin tucked the necklace away.