The Live Verdict

I stepped up to the platform to stand on trial. On the large screen before me, comments flooded in in real-time.

"She's the first person brave enough to stand on trial!"

"Criminals will only surrender in the face of irrefutable evidence."

"The show's about to begin!"

Before we started, the judge gave me one final warning. "Defendant, are you aware of the trial process and understand its consequences? Are you sure you want to go through it?"

If I were found guilty on trial, I would be euthanized on the spot, and the ownership of my organs would go to my parents.

Then, they would be able to use my heart to save Suzy Jones.

Over at the plaintiff's seat, my biological parents glared at me in disdain.

They were so certain that they would win this trial.

I couldn't understand why. I was their biological daughter, yet they had spent years tormenting me, loathing me, and hurting me.

Now, they even wanted to rip my heart from me.

There were plenty of times when I suspected that Suzy was their real daughter, not me.

Right now, she was seated beside them, a mask and sunglasses covering her face so I couldn't see her expression.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then looked at the judge with determination. "Let us begin."

The judge turned to the plaintiff's bar. "Plaintiffs, are you aware that the trial…"

Before he could finish, Mom interrupted shrilly, "We are her parents! How could we possibly lose this case? Just hurry up and get this over with! Suzy doesn't have time to waste!"

…

And so the trial started.

The first charge was brought against the defendant—refusal to fulfil her familial obligations, neglecting her bedridden father, and selfishly indulging in a decadent lifestyle.

On the screen, my mother wiped tears from her eyes as she described the details of the charge.

Our family was not well-off. My father worked tirelessly to put me through school and college, yet when he fell gravely ill, I refused to see him, using the excuse that I was busy with school.

I failed to send money for his medical expenses, which caused him to sustain a permanent disability in his left leg.

"OMG, how cruel!"

"Such an ungrateful brat! What a waste of education!"

The comments were brutal. The screen showed how my mother kept calling me, even bringing my disabled father to college to look for me, all to no avail.

Even the judge frowned at that.

On the plaintiff's side, my parents looked smug. I saw Suzy lifting her chin slightly.

I sat quietly on the defendant's chair as the staff swiftly attached the memory extraction device to my head. Electricity buzzed. I felt a sharp pain stabbing through my brain.

I pursed my lips tightly, making no sound.

A few seconds later, two large words appeared on the screen—Not Guilty.

The screen was flooded with question marks from the audience.

"How can she not be guilty?"

My mother lowered her head guiltily.

…

My memories played across the screen.

When I was eight, Suzy came to live with us.

She and I, along with her parents, had been in a car accident. Her parents had died on the spot.

Her father was my father's best friend, so my father did not hesitate to adopt Suzy into our family.

My mother agreed readily—she'd always liked Suzy.

Ever since then, my life has become hell.

Anything Suzy liked, I had to give it to her—even if it were my textbooks and homework.

I hadn't wanted to. "The teacher will scold me," I protested.

My father slapped me across the face. "She just lost her parents. What's such a big deal about you giving up a notebook to her?"

Before our final exams that year, Suzy took a liking to all the pens I owned.

I refused to give them to her. My father grabbed a broom and beat me with it.

"You heartless, selfish girl! What's the big deal about these pens? Give them to Suzy!"

As I screamed in pain, my mother hugged Suzy and comforted her while she cried. "It's alright. I'll buy you brand-new ones."

Eyes red, Suzy said, "But… those pens look like the ones my mother gave me for my birthday…"

Shaking, I gave her my entire pencil case. "Stop hitting me!" I cried. "Take them, just take them all! I don't want any of them!"

I did not attend my exams that day.

…

When I failed every single paper in my final exam, I was forced to drop out.

"You're too dumb for school, anyway," my father sneered. Turning to Suzy, his eyes softened. "Suzy's different. She's always been at the top of her class."

I was the one who was always at the top of my class.