The Machine I "Destroyed" Was Mine All Along

I was too lazy to waste words on them and simply pointed to the corner where the camera hung. "Whoever broke it, the footage will show, won't it?"

Nicky Hardy let out a derisive snort.

"And who else could it be but you? Elizabeth has always cherished these instruments. And you—know nothing and still insisted on joining the research group."

I looked at him and couldn't help but smirk.

He clearly knew I joined the research group just for him.

I had confessed to him once. He had said, cool and detached, "Michelle, I don't deserve you."

At the time, I thought he was just reserved and slow to warm up. After all, he never rejected my presence. We'd have the occasional meal together, and he'd smile at me. I stayed up late helping him organize literature, and he'd bring me a cup of tea. During holidays, he'd even give me little gifts.

He dangled me there. Neither cold nor warm, neither distant nor near—just occasionally tossing me a sweet, letting me think I had a chance.

And now, he stood in front of me, cradling someone else in his arms, looking at me like I was trash.

Elizabeth poked her head out from behind him just in time and whispered, "Michelle, I know you're under a lot of pressure. The professor suddenly put you in the group, and everyone thought it was strange… but the equipment's broken, and someone has to take responsibility."

Her voice was soft, gentle, even tinged with sympathetic understanding.

"Besides, the professor said this equipment is very valuable. I can understand why you'd be afraid of being held accountable. Why don't we try to figure out a way to fix it first?"

Before she finished, Nicky grabbed her wrist.

"No. We're not professional repairmen. If we try to help her, we'll only end up worse off."

I watched him recoil as if I were radioactive and couldn't help but chuckle.

I turned to Elizabeth.

"You know this equipment is worth over ten million, right? A single repair would cost millions. Before you try to frame me, consider the consequences. If you speak honestly now, I might still help you."

The room went quiet for a few seconds.

Nicky shot a suspicious glance at Elizabeth, as if my unwavering tone had shaken him for a brief moment.

But Elizabeth's voice carried a plaintive whimper, "Michelle, if you know the consequences, then don't pin this on me. We're adults—we should all take responsibility for our own actions."

Tears fell from her eyes, each drop hitting the floor with a soft pat, painting the perfect picture of a girl utterly wronged.

Just then, the lab door opened. A few students from the neighboring group had heard the commotion and came over to watch.

The moment they stepped inside, they caught Elizabeth's tearful voice saying, "Michelle, you usually rely on your connections, and your lack of skills goes unchecked. But this time is different. This equipment breaking is a serious matter…"