Chapter 454
The shame was suffocating. Every harsh word clawed at her like ice-cold fingers around her throat.
But what shattered her most wasn’t the score. It was the thought of letting Rylie down.
Letty watched the scene unfold exactly as she’d imagined, a flicker of triumph in her gaze. She leaned closer to the mic, her voice cutting through the chaos with icy clarity and forced dignity. “Mr. Wells, respected teachers, fellow students. The truth is now painfully clear. Zaylee’s score speaks for itself — hard work and a solid foundation. But Melany’s result…” She let the pause hang heavy in the air. “Such a dramatic gap can’t be brushed off as poor performance. Especially not when there were already irregularities with her last exam results… and the presence of a certain ‘helper.’”
She drew out the last words with precision, her gaze slashing toward Rylie like a knife. “I strongly urge the school to launch a full and serious investigation. We must determine whether Melany used dishonest methods to earn her previous score — possibly even colluding with outsiders to interfere with the school’s academic integrity. For the sake of fairness, and to uphold the standards we value so deeply.”
The accusations — “colluding” and “dishonest methods” — hit Melany like a punch to the chest.
She snapped her head up. Her face had gone pale. Her lips moved, trying to argue back, but the weight of it all kept her voice trapped. All she could do was glance at Rylie again, searching for something.
Rylie’s usual relaxed demeanor vanished. The pen she’d been toying with slipped from her hand. Her shoulders straightened. And the calm in her eyes turned cold. She stared at Letty — not indifferently, but with a sharpness that cut clean through the room.
Letty had just begun to believe she’d already won. That was when Rylie stood. She didn’t even look at Melany. She ignored the crowd’s uproar, the shouting that followed the claims. Instead, she reached toward the podium and took hold of the backup microphone.
A deafening burst of feedback ripped through the room, drowning out every voice in an instant.
It was like a blade tearing through noise.
Every person in the room flinched. Even Letty recoiled, her hands flying to her ears.
And there was Rylie, one hand holding the shrieking mic, the other pressing firmly on the power switch.
The deafening whine didn’t faze her. She didn’t even blink. To her, the chaos meant nothing. She scanned the crowd — slow, steady. Her gaze carried weight. It pressed down, heavy and unmoving.
When her eyes met Letty’s, the woman tensed. Her stomach flipped as dread curled its way into her chest.
“Quiet.” Rylie didn’t need to raise her voice. Through the speakers, it came out clear, crisp. There was no asking in that tone. Only command. Right after she spoke, the feedback stopped. Almost like it listened.
.
.
.