Chapter 2

The classroom fell silent for a moment.

Brooke glanced at me timidly. "Patty, if this is all just a misunderstanding, you should just explain it clearly to Mr. Rickshaw. There's no need to find someone to pretend to be your boss…"

Chuck caught on immediately and sneered. "You say you're going to call the owner, but how do we know whoever answers isn't just someone you hired to back you up?"

He turned to the students behind him with a grin. "It's ridiculously easy to hire people to put on an act these days. Just go on Craigslist, and you can hire three for 25 dollars."

My face burned with frustration. "I'm not faking it! This is the actual owner!"

"Don't get so worked up, Patty. We're just worried about you," Brooke said, looking at me with concern. "You come back so late every night, and we're genuinely worried. Are you really working?"

Another classmate chimed in. "She's obviously up to something shady. Why else would she be so worked up? She clearly feels self-conscious."

I hurriedly opened my photo gallery, found the picture of my medical report documenting my low blood sugar, and sent it to the group chat.

"Look at it yourselves. It's from the ER at Mercy Hospital. It says I have hypoglycemia. I even have the doctor's signature on my medical records."

Everyone pulled out their phones to check the message.

Brooke blinked.

"Mercy Hospital… Isn't that a community hospital?"

I looked at her. "It's a medical center!"

She hurriedly waved her hands, as if afraid I might misunderstand her. "That's not what I meant. My cousin works at Mercy Hospital, and he said those kinds of ER medical records can be issued just by registering at the front desk. He said lots of people use them to get sick leave. They only cost five dollars each…"

"Exactly!" Chuck jumped in. "People do that all the time to get out of gym classes. They just go to the ER, tell the doctor they feel dizzy, and he just writes them a note. It's only five dollars a copy. How cheap is that?"

"No wonder she dared to post it in the group chat. The cost is so low," one classmate muttered.

With one casual remark from Brooke, my medical diagnosis had somehow become fake.

I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt.

"The coffee shop has security cameras. It was all caught on camera—from the moment I passed out to the owner pinching my philtrum to revive me and bringing me coffee. I won't send photos; I'll pull up the actual footage and show you!"

I called the coffee shop owner, Malcolm Heywood, and put him on speakerphone.

He immediately answered, "Hello? Patty?"

The moment I heard his voice coming from the speaker, I let out a sigh of relief.

"Malcolm, it's me. Can you pull up yesterday's security footage from the shop? People are accusing me of lying, and I need the video to prove that I really passed out."

There was a brief silence on the other end.

"Erm… I'm sorry, Patty…" Malcolm said, sounding hesitant. "The shop's surveillance system only keeps records for 30 days. Yesterday happened to be day 31, so it automatically got overwritten."

"What?" I asked, freezing in place.

"You know how our shop's security cameras don't have much storage space. I've been meaning to upgrade the system, but I just haven't gotten around to it…"

My mind went completely blank.

"But even though the footage is gone, I can still vouch for you," he continued. "You, Patty Thawne, have been working at my shop this whole past month."

I thanked him and hung up.

Brooke raised her eyes to look at me. "So, Patty? Did you get the footage? Or did the boss forget to turn it on? Or was it maybe…"

She didn't finish her sentence, but everyone understood exactly what she was implying.

Chuck grinned at me.

"Well, isn't that convenient? The medical reports can be obtained for just five dollars a piece, and the security footage just happened to get overwritten today. The owner is always available by phone, but somehow, the video can't be pulled up."

His mocking tone sent the entire classroom into an uproar of laughter.

In that moment, I truly felt like there was nothing I could say to defend myself.

"Enough!" Tanner snapped, his voice icy.

"You have no valid evidence to prove your innocence," he said, staring straight at me. "Everything you've said is just a one-sided claim. Patty, there's no point in arguing anymore."