The car had barely stopped when I spotted Hubert and Yolanda pacing by the front gate, phones pressed to their ears, calling someone over and over.
Moments later, another car pulled up. Christina was hauled out by two bodyguards, thrashing wildly between them.
"It was my idea!" she screamed.
Behind her, Myron was being dragged out too.
Hubert stormed over and slapped Myron hard across the face.
"You're the bastard who seduced my daughter?"
"Dad! If you're angry, take it out on me!"
Christina's eyes were bloodshot, her clothes half-torn from struggling.
"Listen to me, Christina," Hubert said through gritted teeth. "This family will never accept trash like him. We're getting rid of him today, and you're going to take that exam like you're supposed to."
Hubert and Yolanda grabbed Myron and started dragging him away, ordering the bodyguards to escort Christina to the exam site.
"No! Myron!" Christina clawed at the air. "Dad! Mom! I'll take the exam! Just don't send him away!"
Myron kept looking back, reaching toward her desperately.
"Christina! Save me! I can't leave you!"
Watching her parents drag away the man she loved, Christina could barely breathe through the pain.
Her eyes, rimmed red, landed on me as I walked past.
"You!"
She grabbed my collar and yanked me toward her.
"What are you talking about?"
Her grip knocked against my right hand. I sucked in a sharp breath from the pain. She bared her teeth.
"You just love running to my parents, don't you? Love being jealous? Do you have any idea that Myron's parents just died? He needs someone by his side right now! If I hadn't been there for him, he would've thrown himself in the river! You'd let someone die just because you're jealous?"
She shoved me to the ground. Her chest heaved as she made a gesture toward someone in the crowd.
"Do it!"
The man from the alley—the one who'd tried to assault me—flickered through the sea of faces.
On the big screen nearby, the "Good Luck on Your Exam!" message vanished. In its place were the photos taken of me in that alley.
The originals had clearly shown me as the victim, beaten and cornered.
But these weren't the originals.
These had been edited. Photoshopped. AI-enhanced. The footage of me getting jumped had been transformed into something else entirely—me partying with a group of heavily made-up older women.
Students heading into the exam hall froze in their tracks.
"Oh my god, is that—that's disgusting! Taking photos like that? Those women look old enough to be his mom!"
"Kids these days have no shame. And right by the school, too!"
"Wait, I know him! That's Alvin from Class Eight!"
"Tsk, tsk. Looks so proper on the outside. Who knew he was into this kind of thing?"
"Getting freaky with sugar mamas in back alleys? Interesting."
"Christina!"
I grabbed her collar.
"Take it down! Take it down now!"
But she just shoved me away, laughing as she pointed at the screen.
"What's wrong? Isn't that you? You love snitching so much—well, now everyone knows your little secret. Why so shy all of a sudden?"
"That's not me!"
My voice cracked.
She just laughed harder as the bodyguards escorted her toward the exam hall. At the entrance, she turned back.
"Alvin, Myron is my everything. You've targeted him again and again. So now I'm giving you a taste of your own medicine."
The parents waiting outside fixed me with looks sharp enough to draw blood.
The police restored the screen quickly enough, but the damage was done. No one could look away.
Every step toward the exam hall felt like wading through concrete.
When I finally walked into the classroom and took my seat, the students who were already there looked up. Their expressions ranged from complicated to openly disgusted.
