Chapter 4

Matthew's eyes flickered. "The original papers have already been sealed and sent to the Department of Education as evidence!"

He and Alyssa had clearly planned this from the start. There was no original paper he could produce.

He added quickly, "As for the system, that's for teachers. A cheating student like you has no right to access it. Who knows what you might try to alter?"

He did not spare me another glance. He turned to Albert and spoke with urgency. "Mr. Johanson, this student has severely damaged our school's reputation. She shows no remorse and even talks back to her parents and teachers. I recommend immediate expulsion. We should issue a school-wide notice and enforce it at once."

"Expel her," Albert said coldly. "Immediately. Keeping a disaster like this only brings shame. She has already humiliated the Johanson family enough."

He spun toward the doorway and shouted, "Security! Where is campus security? Throw her out. From now on, she is not allowed to set foot in this school."

The guards waiting outside rushed in. Their heavy steps echoed across the floor as they closed in around me, faces set and unyielding.

The hallway had filled with students. The moment they heard the word expelled, cheers and insults erupted at once.

"Finally! Good riddance!"

"Should've kicked her out sooner!"

"Get out! Get out!"

Crumpled paper flew through the open door. An apple core struck my shoulder, and sticky juice soaked into my sleeve.

"You bullied our school belle Alyssa? Go to hell!"

"Shameless cheater!"

The crowd roared.

I stood in the center like a rat caught in the open street, surrounded and attacked from every side.

A guard seized my arm. His fingers dug in with bruising force. "Move. Now. Stop causing trouble."

He shoved me. I staggered and barely kept my footing.

Behind Anita, Alyssa curved her lips into a small, triumphant smile.

I saw it all in that packed hallway: Alyssa's smug eyes, my parents' cold faces. Something inside me burned clean.

"Let go."

I tore my arm free.

"You want evidence?" My voice sliced through the noise. "You said I copied a perfect paper?"

I crossed the room in three strides and reached Matthew's desk. A desktop computer sat there, connected to the school's broadcast system and the electronic display screens in the corridor.

Matthew's face drained of color. "What are you doing? Have you lost your mind? Stop her!"

The guards lunged again.

I moved faster. "Then open your eyes and look."

I slammed the Enter key. In the next second, the office monitor lit up. So did the long row of electronic screens outside, the ones that usually displayed model students and honor roll lists.

The corridor, loud as a marketplace moments earlier, fell silent.

Everyone looked up.

On the screen was my exam answer sheet. It was blank. Every section stood empty. In the essay box, drawn in thick black ink, was a huge turtle.

Beside it, scrawled in wild, arrogant strokes: [What are you staring at? Never seen someone turn in a blank paper?]