Zaylee’s face turned pale. Her lips trembled like a leaf in the wind, and her body shook all over. She glanced at her messy, clumsy draft on the screen, then at the flawless answer sheet beside it. Shame rose like a wave, crashing down with the fear of public humiliation. It crushed her. Below, the two girls who were close to Zaylee were also facing unpleasant questions from their classmates.

Everyone knew the three of them had once been tutored by Rylie.

One of the girls, clearly annoyed, snapped, “How was I supposed to know Rylie was genuinely knowledgeable? Zaylee told me she was bottom of her class in high school. She even said Rylie only came to tutor us because she wanted to seduce Zaylee’s boyfriend. When he found out, he asked for Ms. Carter instead.”

The other girl added, “Honestly, I think Ms. Carter’s teaching is just average. She knows her stuff, sure, but her explanations are always so complicated. My grades barely improved.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Gunter interjected, his voice firm and commanding.

The room fell silent at once. He then continued, “This public exam and Q&A session was held to prove that the teachers at Brightwood High did not cheat, help students, or cooperate with wealthy families. After a thorough on-site check, Melany’s exam results are confirmed to be authentic.” He paused, then continued. “Zaylee’s report to the Department of Education — filed under her real name — was false. Today, driven by jealousy and a desire to cheat, she falsely accused Melany and Miss Owen, harming their reputation and that of our school. As punishment, she will receive a major demerit and must publicly apologize to both Melany and Miss Owen.”

Gunter could have expelled her. But considering the Morgan family’s influence, he settled on a lighter sentence — to protect the school’s reputation and clear Melany’s and Rylie’s names.

The stares from the students made Zaylee want to disappear. She forced herself up from her chair and barely managed to mumble an apology to Melany before turning to leave. But her body, still trembling from stress and shame, gave out. She missed a step — and fell.

A gasp rose from the crowd.

But just before she hit the floor, a steady arm caught her.

Through her dazed eyes, Zaylee looked up and saw a cold, strikingly handsome face. Her voice shook as she whispered, “Brad.”

Brad held her firmly. Noticing her disoriented state, he took off Brock’s jacket and placed it over her head, shielding her from the stares. Then he looked up again.

Zaylee shivered under the jacket. She leaned closer and murmured, “Brad, I can’t walk.”

Following Brad’s signal, Brock stepped forward, scooped up Zaylee, now covered by the jacket, and strode out. Inwardly, he couldn’t help but grumble.

His brand-new sports jacket — now soaked in the tears of this drama queen.

Still unaware that someone else was carrying her, Zaylee nestled into the warm chest, thinking Brad had swept her off her feet like a hero in shining armor. Brad, however, was already brushing off his hands like he had touched something unpleasant. Then he lifted his eyes toward Rylie.

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