By this time, I had already calmed down.
I looked straight at the police and said evenly, “You’re accusing me, then show me the evidence.”
The officers immediately pulled up the proof.
It was surveillance footage.
In the video, I was clutching my stomach, moving suspiciously into the secure room where the exam papers were kept. I was clearly seen pulling out two test papers and carefully using a small knife to scrape off the barcodes and swap them.
I stared, dumbfounded.
Then they brought out two sealed exam papers, each locked in a plastic bag, undeniable evidence.
One was completely blank, bearing Zion’s barcode.
The other was fully completed, with my barcode stuck neatly on it. Judging by the handwriting, it was clearly Zion’s exam.
One officer continued, voice flat.
“The two guards responsible for watching the exam papers have already been arrested.”
“Each of their accounts received a transfer of one million dollars.”
“They confessed that during the exam period, someone contacted them, promising one million each if they spent half an hour in the restroom while on duty.”
“We traced the account that made the transfers. It belongs to you.”
I stared at the bank records in disbelief, my mind completely blank.
Zion looked at me with deep disappointment and asked quietly, “Was it really you?”
I drew in a sharp breath and raised my voice. “I don’t know what’s going on with this so-called evidence, but I can prove it wasn’t me. I have an alibi!”
I held up my phone, my tone firm. “These past few days, I’ve been live streaming from my hospital bed, twenty-four hours a day, without a single break.”
“The entire internet watched me. Anyone can testify that I never left that room.”
But the police officer gave me a knowing smile.
Clearly experienced, he went straight to the point.
“You’ve never had a habit of livestreaming.”
“Why did you suddenly decide to stream nonstop these few days? Don’t you think that seems a little too deliberate?”
I was left speechless.
The officer said, “And you should know, the content of a livestream isn’t necessarily real.”
“There are plenty of streamers who loop old footage to pretend it’s live and trick viewers into sending money.”
“This kind of fraud has happened before.”
“We have every reason to believe your so-called livestream was pre-recorded, and you were the one who went to commit the crime.”
“Little girl, you’re clever; you even knew how to create an alibi.”
“But fake is still fake. With professional criminal investigation techniques, you won’t get away with it.”
“I advise you to confess. If you do, your sentence might be lighter.”
I stammered. “My livestream was real. You can examine it.”
The officer’s gaze was stern. “We will examine it. But in the meantime, you will be held in custody.”
Zion looked at the police with worry in his eyes. “She just had an appendectomy. If you lock her up now, she won’t be able to handle it.”
“Don’t worry,” the officer replied flatly. “We have doctors here. Her condition won’t be neglected.”
Under Zion’s anxious gaze, I was locked away.
My body had mostly recovered, but the crushing psychological pressure made it impossible to eat or sleep.
Even though I was cut off from the world, I knew the entire internet was cursing me and cursing my parents, too.
I was terrified the tragedy of my past life would happen all over again.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my parents struggling in the river, calling for help that no one gave.
I cried until my eyes were too swollen to open.
On the third day, my mom and dad finally bailed me out.
The moment I saw them, I threw myself into their arms, choking on my sobs.
“I didn’t do it,” I cried.
