As the eighteen girls entered the courtyard, the atmosphere shifted instantly. A strange fragrance filled the air, tinged with the scent of smoke and burning. Strangest of all, each girl carried a black plastic bag. Bai Tingting, in her blue skirt, still looked as cold and arrogant as the day she forced me to massage her feet. Su Mengyao, in her purple skirt and black coat, exuded wealth and pride; she was the one who had truly betrayed me, and I vowed never to choose her. Wang Changchang, in her red fur coat, looked shy but I remembered her cruelty—leaving me in the middle of the road as a child, hoping a car would hit me. Some stood in simple white dresses, their expressions filled with the same elitist pride. Just as I was about to decide, Su Mengyao spoke up.