CHAPTER SEVEN: The test scandal

Midterms were supposed to be ordinary.

At least, that’s what everyone expected from me.

But when the teachers began grading, whispers slithered through the staff room like smoke.

“Look at this.”

“That can’t be right. Check again.”

“She’s… number one?”

“But—wasn’t she barely passing before?”

For ten full minutes, all they did was stare at my test paper.

The math teacher even held it up to the light, as if answers would magically reveal themselves as “fake.”

Finally, unable to decide, they posted the results publicly.

And the school exploded.

The hallway was packed so tightly it felt like the walls were breathing.

Students screamed, shouted, argued. Phones recorded every second.

“Who’s number one?”

“Move, I can’t see—”

Then the list refreshed on the digital board.

The top two names appeared.

1. Sheraphina Vale— 98%

2. Lucinda Vale—80%

The crowd went silent.

Then chaos.

“That’s rigged!”

“She must’ve cheated!”

“The principal totally favors her!”

“Lucinda had always been the top one!”

Their disbelief rolled through the school like a tidal wave—loud, messy, and satisfying.

When the news reached Lucinda, she found out in her bedroom, the text came when she was applying makeup by her mirror and she froze mid-brushstroke.

Her mascara wand dropped.

Then—

CRASH.

A perfume bottle shattered against her vanity.

She stood there, trembling with rage, pupils blown wide.

“She… she beat me?”

“She’s number one?”

“She—Sheraphina?”

Her mother Selena rushed in but  didn’t comfort her.

She just tilted her head, lips curving slightly.

“Break it if you must, darling,” she said.

“Just don’t break your image.”

Lucinda snapped another hair clip in half.

But she didn’t throw tantrums for long.

No.

She calmed, wiped fake tears, reapplied lipstick—

And began doing what she knew best —planting rumors .

The rumor spread first.

“Did you hear? She used her grandfather’s connections.”

“I heard the test paper was switched.”

“Someone said she paid a teacher.”

Perfectly timed.

Perfectly subtle.

By the fourth day, the rumor had evolved into a monster:

Sheraphina cheated and the school is covering it up.

Even strangers online joined in.

Accounts with no profile pictures.

Anonymous comments.

Fake “eyewitnesses.”

Lucinda didn’t need to say a single direct word.

The crowd did the filthy work for her.

The fifth morning I opened my phone, I saw my name climbing the trending list.

#CheatingPrincess

#ValeFraud

#BanSheraphina

Thousands of comments.

Insults.

Threads questioning my morals, my family, my intelligence.

The school’s stock even dipped slightly because of the scandal.

My father barged into the manor like a thunderstorm.

“You need to apologize,” he snapped. “This isn’t just about you anymore.”

“No,” I said quietly.

Grandfather stepped between us, his voice cold enough to freeze stone.

“She won’t apologize for a lie.”

Father’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t dare argue.

Grandfather rarely raised his voice, but when he did, the world listened.

The next day at school, my locker was covered in black marker:

CHEATER

LIAR

GO HOME

Inside, a dead rat lay curled, stiff.

A few students laughed when I pulled it out.

I didn’t react.

I simply closed the locker and walked away.

That calmness seemed to fuel their hatred further.

They wanted me broken.

I refused to give them the satisfaction.

After a week of nonstop scandal, the school finally summoned me.

The principal looked exhausted, the board members worse.

“We’ve decided—”

“—it’s best if we expel you.”

“This controversy is affecting us all.”

I let their words settle.

Then I said softly:

“I have a proposal.”

They paused.

“Give me another test,” I continued. “A new test. Prepared the same morning. Livestreamed. Every angle recorded.”

The board exchanged shocked glances.

“If I fail,” I added, “I’ll accept expulsion. And I’ll sign a document forbidding me from enrolling in any other school.”

Silence.

“…Very well,” the principal said at last.

And the date was set.

On the day of the remake test,

The whole city watched.

Reporters camped outside school gates.

Students lined up with their phones ready.

The livestream link passed through group chats, gossip pages, and news accounts.

Inside the test room, cameras blinked like dozens of unblinking eyes.

A teacher slid the freshly printed test onto the desk.

“You have two hours,” he said.

I nodded.

Then I wrote.

Steady.

Focused.

Unbothered.

Halfway through the second hour, I lifted my hand.

“I’m finished.”

The supervising teacher nearly choked.

“You—already?”

He collected the paper with trembling fingers.

The grading was also livestreamed—every calculation, every rubric, every point.

Then the final score appeared on-screen.

100/100 — Perfect.

The internet exploded.

“She’s a genius!”

“I misjudged her!”

“She answered everything flawlessly!”

“Who bullied her? They need to apologize!”

The narrative flipped instantly.

The principal, forced by public pressure, praised me as a “remarkable academic talent” and transferred me into the elite class.

Meanwhile in the Vale residence, Lucinda’s makeup brush snapped in half.

Selena’s smile faded for the first time.

“How… how did she—?”

“This wasn’t the plan.”

“She was supposed to FAIL!”

Their livestream replay still sat on the laptop screen, mocking them with every perfect answer.

When I walked into school, students who previously mocked me now moved aside respectfully.

Lucinda came running toward me, eyes shiny with fake adoration.

“Sister! Congratulations!” she said loudly. “I—I never knew you were that smart! You hid it so well!”

Her voice dripped sweetness like poisoned honey.

But the elite-class students behind me weren’t fooled.

One whispered just loud enough:

“Why does she sound jealous?”

“Seriously. She’s being weird.”

“Let her be jealous. Sheraphina earned it.”

Lucinda’s smile froze.

I simply nodded.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

Two simple words.

But Lucinda flinched as if they were a slap.

Lucinda didn’t show her true reaction at school.

She saved it for home.

As soon as the front door closed, her smile cracked like thin glass. Tears streamed down her cheeks—too clean, too perfect to be real—but Selena didn’t comfort her.

Selena never comforted anyone.

She observed.

Calculated.

Predicted.

And when Lucinda finally collapsed onto the couch, sobbing, “Mama… Mama she stole it all again,” Selena’s lips lifted in a slow, quiet smile.

“No, sweetheart,” she murmured, brushing Lucinda’s hair back. “You lost a battle. Not the war.”

Lucinda sniffed loudly.

“But she’s popular now! Everyone praises her! The school is rewarding her! And… and the City Youth Academic Competition is next week—”

Ah.

There it was.

The trap. The opportunity.

Selena’s eyes gleamed coldly.

“That competition will be our turning point,” she said. “And the place where Sheraphina falls.”

Lucinda blinked, confused.

“H-how? She got a perfect score…”

“Yes,” Selena replied. “Which is why we must make that perfect score work against her.”

She leaned close, lowering her voice.

“We’ll prepare a scheme she can’t escape.”

Two days before the competition, a neatly wrapped package appeared in my school locker.

No note.

Just the envelope.

I picked it up, examined it.

Thin. Lightweight.

Strange.

Lucinda wasn’t far away—pretending to chat with friends, stealing glances.

She must have expected me to panic.

To hide it.

To open it secretly.

To appear guilty.

Instead, I opened it right where I stood.

Inside was:

A USB drive

A printed cover page titled “City Competition Answer Key — CONFIDENTIAL”

My expression didn’t change.

Lucinda’s face drained of color.

She rushed toward me, pretending concern.

“Sister, what’s that? Why—why would someone put something like that in your locker? Ah—did someone try to frame you?”

Her voice was so sugary the students around us winced.

I held the envelope loosely between my fingers.

“Interesting,” I said calmly.

Lucinda blinked rapidly.

“Huh?”

I handed the envelope to the teacher walking past us.

“Please submit this to the competition board,” I said. “It appears someone wishes to cause trouble.”

Lucinda’s eyes widened in horror.

She hadn’t expected me to be this fast.

This blunt.

This fearless.

The teacher stared at the materials inside, shocked.

“We’ll investigate immediately,” he said, voice tense.

As he walked away, students whispered.

“Who would frame her again?”

“She just cleared her name.”

“This is getting suspicious…”

Lucinda laughed nervously.

“People do such scary things… I hope they don’t… misunderstand.”

The students behind me whispered:

“Why does she sound guilty?”

“She’s strangely nervous.”

“Something’s off.”

Lucinda’s smile froze.

Again.