The Genius Orphan Author Goes Silent Online, But Her Best Friend Goes Mad

“This book is my heart and soul, my labor of love. I poured countless hours into it and yet you, my so-called best friend, had the audacity to plagiarize it!”

Kimberly’s fans quickly uploaded comparison charts and color-coded analyses, flooding my account with hateful comments. They didn’t stop at me—my family became targets too.

Most of my fans were peaceful and non-confrontational, completely overwhelmed by the wave of abuse and unable to fight back.

Seizing the moment, Kimberly publicly revealed that I had been living in her home. The insults grew even louder.

“I can’t believe Ruth Norris shamelessly squatted in someone else’s house and still had the nerve to plagiarize!”

“No parents, no manners—no wonder she’s been exposed as a fraud!”

Although I had endured this storm of public outrage once before, seeing it all unfold again still struck a painful chord in my heart.

I bit down hard on my lower lip, the metallic taste of blood filling my senses as I forced myself to snap out of it and focus.

She might have stolen my drafts, but she couldn’t steal my inspiration or the soul of my writing.

Without responding to the chaos, I grabbed my keyboard and tablet and headed to a nearby café. There, I swiftly revised the story’s direction, reworking the plot and the intricate emotional entanglements between the protagonists.

The tone of the story took a sharp, dramatic turn.

After typing out 4,000 words, I closed my tablet with satisfaction. Logging into the site, I scheduled the updated chapter to go live at midnight the following day.

This time, I was determined to see how she planned to plagiarize.

When I returned home with my tablet, the living room lights were blazing. Kimberly was sitting there, her gaze sharp and her expression icy as she waited for me.

I was taken in by her family when I was nine years old. Since starting work, I had been contributing monthly to their household expenses as a way of repaying their kindness.

“I’ll transfer thirty thousand dollars to your mother, making it a total of two hundred twenty-five thousand dollars over the years. After that, I’ll leave this house for good.”

With those words, I turned, planning to leave as fast as I could. However, Kimberly grabbed my arm, blocking my path. She stood in front of me, her lips curling into a cold, dismissive smirk.

"You think you can just walk out like that? What do you take our home for—a hotel?"

"And what about the plagiarism? Don’t you owe us an explanation?"

She had the audacity to bring up plagiarism.

I swallowed my anger and said sternly, "I wrote that story myself. You stole my ideas and now you’re turning it around on me. How can a human like you exist?"

Unbothered, she sat arrogantly on the sofa, her eyes filled with disdain. She spat near my feet and sneered, “Where’s your proof? You’re just an orphan who plagiarized from the child of your benefactor. No manners, no family background—who’s going to believe you? You’re not much better than a stray cat or dog; do you actually think you’re important?”

Her words pierced through me like a dagger. I didn’t want to waste any more time arguing. Clutching my tablet, I turned to leave.

Kimberly’s pupils suddenly constricted and she lunged at me, trying to snatch the tablet.

In the scuffle, she lost her balance and fell.

"Ruth! How dare you bully my daughter—are you insane?!"

Kimberly’s mother furious voice boomed as she stormed in, rushing to shield Kimberly like a lioness protecting her cub.

No matter how much I tried to explain, she watched me with icy detachment.

"My daughter has had a deep love for literature since childhood. And what are you, exactly? How dare you try to ruin her reputation? Get back to your room this instant!"

The way she lovingly stroked Kimberly’s hair made my nose sting with unshed tears. The only reason these two had the guts to trample on me was because I had no one to back me up.

I packed my bags and left the house, taking only a few belongings with me. I found a cramped, run-down motel to stay in, lost in thought about what to do next.

As I scrolled through my phone, a sudden message from my editor popped up.

I stared at the screen, utterly speechless.

How could this be?!

Kimberly had updated again—and it was identical to my work!