Copying a Blank, Framed Anyway

On the day of the state-wide exam, the Johanson family's real daughter accused me of cheating.

Two perfect-score papers lay side by side, identical in every detail. No matter how I argued, I could not clear my name.

Everyone sided with her. They branded me a cheater and cast me out of the Johanson family in front of everyone.

To appease her, the Johansons went even further. They used their influence to blacklist me across every industry within their reach.

I ended up sleeping on the streets. One hardship followed another until my thoughts dulled and a car struck me with such force that it sent me airborne.

Even at the end, one question haunted me: "Why did my paper match hers?"

Then I opened my eyes and found myself back in the exam room.

This time, I turned in a blank sheet. I wanted to see for myself how someone who scored zero could possibly copy anyone.

Matthew Wallace, the Dean of Students, stood at the front of the classroom behind the lectern like a judge on the bench. "Bridget Johanson, I've already reached your parents. They're on their way."

Students crowded around him, forming a tight circle, eager for spectacle.

"This is cheating on the district-wide joint exam. The circumstances are extremely serious." He leaned forward, his voice sharp. "If your parents don't arrive, we will begin the withdrawal process immediately. And once that mark goes on your record, you can forget about ever turning your life around."

I stood at the center of the room, my expression blank.

In my previous life, this was the moment they branded me a plagiarist. Everything I had built collapsed. My future went into freefall.

Now the so-called victim, Alyssa Johanson, the real Johanson daughter, stood beside me.

Her eyes were rimmed red, her lashes damp. She wore a fragile look that invited protection, as if a raised voice might shatter her.

"Mr. Wallace, everyone…" Her voice trembled. "Please don't blame my sister. This is all my fault."

Tears slid down her cheeks in clean, deliberate drops. "It was me. I didn't hide my test paper properly. I shouldn't have scored so high…"

She swallowed, as if the admission hurt. "If I had scored a little lower, or written a few wrong answers on purpose, my sister wouldn't have… She wouldn't have taken this path just to beat me."

Hector Paul, the homeroom teacher, flushed with rage. "Alyssa, you're too kind. How could any of this be your fault?"

He jabbed a finger at me without turning his head. "She's the one with a rotten heart. You earned first place on your own. Why should you give it to her?"

Alyssa shook her head and scanned the room with patient sorrow. "You don't understand. My sister is actually very pitiful. She just wanted to stay in the Johanson family."

Her soft, apologetic gaze drifted toward me, as though she were generously explaining my cruelty. "Ever since I came back, she's been anxious. She was afraid our parents would love only me and stop loving her. She wanted a high score to prove herself."

She paused, as if summoning courage. "This time, I volunteered to let her copy."

A hush settled over the room.

"She… Two days ago at home, she got so angry that she locked me out on the balcony all night. She wouldn't let me come inside."

Her shoulders shook. "I was so cold. I was so scared… She said if I didn't help her get the recommendation slot, she would make sure I had no place in the Johanson family."

She wiped at her tears, trembling harder. "So I left my paper where she could see it. I don't blame her. I really don't."

The classroom erupted.

"What? She locked you on the balcony all night? It's winter. That could kill someone!"

"I knew it. Alyssa is always catching colds. So that's why. Bridget's been abusing her."

"That's disgusting. Stealing her place wasn't enough, now she wants her dead too?"

A boy who trailed Alyssa everywhere shot to his feet and pointed at me, his voice breaking with anger. "Bridget, do you have any shame? Alyssa is that kind and you treat her like this? Get out of our class. We don't want a toxic woman as our classmate."

"Yeah. Get out of Class Two."

"Cheating trash."

"Bully."

The insults crashed over me in waves until they merged into a single roar.

Last time, I lost control and slapped her. The crack of skin against skin gave them exactly what they wanted, undeniable proof and a tidy ending.

This time, I stayed still. I let the noise roll through me and fade.

I calmly surveyed the room, then fixed my gaze on Alyssa. She was still crying, still hiding that careful glint in her eyes.

"Alyssa, nice story," I said evenly.

"You said I locked you on the balcony. You said I pushed you down the stairs. You said I forced you to cheat." I held her stare. "Where's the evidence?"

I tilted my head slightly. "So all it takes is you moving your lips, and I become an unforgivable monster?"

Alyssa flinched as if I had struck her. She shrank back and ducked behind Paul, shaking as though she could barely stand.

"Bree, don't be angry," she whispered.

"I really didn't want to say it. Everyone kept asking me…" Her voice broke at precise moments. "I didn't want you to get expelled."

"Enough." Hector slammed his hand on the desk. "Bridget, even now you refuse to admit it. You dare to threaten the victim. With that attitude, you are beyond saving."

He pointed at the door, as if security were already waiting. "When your parents arrive, I will tell them everything you've done, in front of the entire class."

He had barely finished when the classroom door flew open.

"No need to wait. We heard all of it." A middle-aged man's voice cut through the noise, tight with fury that seemed to flatten the air.