Photos of me and Jason being intimate appeared on the screen, one by one.
The commotion in the audience grew even louder.
The video ended with a freeze-frame on Jessica's flustered, helpless face.
But I could clearly see she was smiling.
Jason quickly walked up from the judges' panel, blocking the camera, and the video ended.
Holding my phone, my heart felt ice-cold.
Students messaged me one after another.
"Mrs. Moore, don't be sad. Maybe everyone will forget about it in a few days."
I knew this was just a comforting excuse.
Those photos would spread rapidly across campus, becoming gossip and jokes after meals.
A wave of bitterness surged through my nose, and my eyes instantly welled up.
I clenched my teeth, swallowing the surging, burning humiliation.
I couldn't cry.
Samantha, you can't cry here.
But my throat felt stuffed with wet cotton, heavy and astringent, choking me.
So this is what it feels like to be stripped naked in public.
I gritted my teeth, swallowing the bitterness.
I got out of the car, carrying the things my staff had just packed for me.
When I entered the classroom through the back door, Jason was giving his final statement on stage, his voice steady and powerful.
"First, please don't circulate today's incident, photos, or videos. Otherwise, I will pursue the matter to the end."
"Second, Jessica is a student I personally mentored."
"This child is a little slow, but she's well-behaved and hardworking. If there's anything she can't answer today, please, teachers, be lenient for my sake and don't make things too difficult for her."
Perhaps he didn't realize that his tone was full of doting affection when he spoke of Jessica.
Jessica noticed me first.
Her smile instantly froze. She stood abruptly, voice shrill and urgent, pointing at me.
"Why are you here!"
"You're not from our school! Who let you in? Get out! Please leave immediately!"
All eyes in the classroom shifted from Jason to me.
Various lewd gazes were like nails fixed on me.
I met everyone's gaze, met Jessica's almost spitting fire, and smiled slightly.
“Jessica.”
“I raised you for ten years.”
“From when you were ten, until you were twenty.”
"..."
"Strictly speaking, I'm your nominal adoptive mother, aren't I?"
I watched her face gradually drain color, then gently waved the booklet in my hand.
"I've come to see my adopted daughter's dissertation defense..."
"Is that not allowed?"
I looked at Jessica's pale face and walked step by step towards her.
The assistant quietly walked to the front row and placed the printed booklets, one by one, in front of each reviewing professor and important attendee.
The rustling sound of pages turning filled the classroom.
My voice clearly reached everyone's ears.
"I'm here today to file a formal complaint."
