Novel & Cerita Fake Report Card

Conner and Anisa were forced to their knees. Anisa's face had swollen badly, and blood still seeped from one ear, but she kept struggling. "Mr. Randall, save me. I'm carrying your child." She clung tightly to Conner's arm as if it were her last lifeline. Conner's eyes shifted slightly. Floyd picked up a manila envelope from beside him, shook out the documents, and tossed them on the floor one by one. The first document was Anisa's actual academic record. She had dropped out of high school and had never studied abroad. Her so-called MBA from a prestigious business school was a fake certificate she had bought on the black market for eight thousand dollars.

The dispatcher let out a heavy sigh. His voice was filled with obvious exhaustion and impatience. "I'll repeat this one more time. Filing a false police report during the SATs is against the law. What you're describing, the theft of students' identities, would be an extremely serious criminal offense. And you're making this accusation because a teacher collected students' documents for safekeeping? That's a ridiculous conclusion. "Right now, every available officer in the city is busy guarding the exam venues. We don't have time to entertain paranoid suspicions."

Dead silence settled within the group. My eyes were on the screen as I gleefully tried to picture the pallor of my classmates' faces. A long moment later, texts came in like a flood. "That's photoshopped! You've lost your mind, Nancy!" "Carrie would never do this! You'd do anything just to make her look bad!" Chris was the first to defend Carrie. "Faking an admissions office's stamp is a crime. You're going to get sued."

But the damage was done. “Sex tapes?” Mr. Thompson asked flatly. I coughed. “What the hell? Of course not. Well—” I ran a hand through my hair. “I’m not entirely sure about that.” I sighed. “Look, I’m a public figure. We had a fake relationship to help my reputation. It was fake,” I muttered. The man hummed. “These records include her therapy sessions, family records—which…” God, this was complicated. “Which she knows nothing about,” I continued. “I want them gone. Deleted. Permanently.”

My hands were steady, but my pulse quickened as I opened and started reading. 'Courier company turns out to be fake, although the address listed for the sender leads to a dummy corporate website that has only ever been accessed from the campus of the University of Granada in Spain. The sender is one E. Thorris, which I believe is a made up name. In my opinion, this is just some university student pulling a stunt. ' Along with the report was a bunch of snapshots of the sites that were pretty much useless. I gripped the report tightly, almost crunching it. This was no stunt. Whoever it was knew the truth and was playing us.

“you are not the one who did anything wrong..” “That doesn’t matter,” I say, voice thin. “Truth doesn’t trend. Drama does.” More notifications flood in.Someone created a fake account pretending to be me same profile picture same name,even the same pinned tweet. It’s posting fake “apologies,” fake screenshots of DMs with Aiden, and a statement claiming I “I was force to be in a fake relastionship” I open the comments. People are arguing about which account is the “real” me. Some are defending me; others are convinced I’m lying. My throat feels tight. I want to speak, to correct them all, but I know better. The more I respond, the deeper it gets.

He only stared at me, his gaze hot on the side of my face. “Students, calm down.” The dean ordered, his hand clutching his chest with widened eyes. “I only gasped because…” “Because you know the card is fake, and Nora here can be expelled or even thrown in jail for theft or something even more horrible. Right?” Giselle rolled her eyes. “So damn dramatic and for what?” she popped her gum. “That’s not it at all, Miss Peterson.” The dean rolled his eyes. “I only gasped because the card is indeed real. The funds have appeared in the school’s accounts already.” He said, earning a wave of sharp gasps through the hall.

“We can get through this. But I need you to tell me the truth. All of it. Right now. What will they find in those files?” She pulls away, wrapping her arms around herself. “Everything. They'll find everything that doesn't make sense. The pack I claimed doesn't exist. The school records are fabricated. My entire identity before Highcrest is… fake.” “Okay. Okay, that's—” I pace, my mind racing. “We can work with that. We say you were running from something. An abusive pack, maybe. That you had to hide your trail, create a new identity to stay safe.”

Seemingly having noticed her anxiety. Zayden looked at Alice, and asked, “Did you graduate from Delight High School?” “No… Not really. I am a dropout.” Alice composed herself and replied. Alice claimed that she had graduated from Delight High School in her resume so that she could make it to the interview stage. She needed this job very much, so she used this method to come for the interview. The other interviewer was surprised. “You mean that your resume is fake?”

I made sure the timing lined up with when people would be scrolling after school. Next, I moved to the school’s anonymous confession page. I had three different fake accounts ready for situations like this. I posted from the first one: “Does anyone else think the new scholarship girl (J) seems really unstable? Saw her talking to herself in the library yesterday. Kinda scary tbh.” I smiled as I hit post. It was small. Just a seed. But seeds had a way of growing when you watered them right.