The message was not yet finished when Hannah's came through.
"It's Sunday today, and the monthly exam results will be out tomorrow, Monday."
Arnold Simmons could only delete the text he was typing, "I know."
Hannah, with a pen in hand, drew circles on the draft paper and after a moment of thought, she asked him again, "Arnold Simmons, do you think you'll still be last this time?"
Arnold Simmons replied quickly, "I'm always at the bottom."
He had long been accustomed to it.
"But this time it's different."
"What's different?"
Hannah said, "After this result is out, next time you and I won't be able to be in the same exam room."
Arnold Simmons' pen-holding hand paused, the night wind outside the window was bone-chilling, the autumn came late, cold and dreary.
He couldn't quite pinpoint the feeling in his heart, like a chill blowing through, a suffocating pain.
His fingertips moved on the screen, about to click send, when another message came.
