Betrayed by Blood, Avenged by Talent

Before the expert arranged by my father arrived, I heard my brother and mother’s conversation.

“Deon, Janette has already been punished. Do we still need to arrange for those reporters to come to the hospital to expose her for plagiarism today? After all, we don't have any substantial evidence."

My brother sighed, his tone decisive as he stated, “It has to be exposed! Her vocal cords are already damaged and she has no choice but to retire. A little more dirt thrown her way won’t matter to her now.

“Only in this way can Eugenia gain the sympathy of the judges and her chances of winning the Golden Melody Award will be much greater.”

“Eugenia was raised by us, she can't possibly lie. Even if there is no evidence, I have a way to testify.”

My father told my brother, “Don't be too protective of Janette in front of the reporters. Let her realize her mistakes and smooth her edges.”

My brother responded in a deep voice, “Yes.”

I laid on the hospital bed in despair, but my tears had already dried up.

Ten years ago, I was found by my brother because of the singing competition video I made in the orphanage.

After they recognized me and took me back, I put in more effort and hard work than Eugenia and was admitted to the most famous music college together with her.

Later, I created the song “The Moon Under the Sea,” which was nominated for the Golden Melody Award.

But my brother believed what Eugenia said and wanted to give false testimony for her to destroy my reputation.

My heart was broken. If I had known this would happen, I would never have gone home with them.

The door of the ward was violently pushed open and a group of reporters with cameras and guns rushed in.

I laid on the hospital bed, unable to move and watched them slander me.

“Janette, I heard that you were punished by those haters because you plagiarized your sister's work. Do you know your mistake now?”

"I heard they cut off your vocal cords and broke your arms and legs. Are you going to become a mute cripple?"

The female reporter in the front row asked with indignation and suddenly withdrew the microphone and laughed.

“I almost forgot that you cannot speak now, so let's show it to everyone!”

She pulled away the towel blanket from my body, revealing my broken and twisted hands and feet.

“Now that your limbs are broken, you should not be able to copy your sister's songs anymore, right?”

"That's not necessarily true. Maybe he can be a disabled but strong-willed plagiarist. Isn't it true that some people can type with their tongues?"

The male reporter next to him was full of ridicule and disdain.

Everyone surrounded me and took pictures. Their contempt and ridicule were like knives stabbing straight into my heart.

I felt extremely humiliated but could not open my mouth to refute. My red and swollen eyes were filled with tears again.