The Scholarship Girl Framed My Son,So I Played the Footage

I took Christian by the hand and turned to go without a backward glance.

When we'd walked a good distance, Christian asked me quietly, "Mom, wasn't that a little harsh? She's a fellow student, after all."

I stopped and looked at this foolish boy of mine, the one who had been driven to jump to his death in my last life.

"Remember this. Never hand out your sympathy carelessly."

He nodded, only half understanding.

"I'll do as you say."

Three in the afternoon.

Christian and I had just settled into a hotel near campus.

His phone rang. It was his advisor, Roland Lambert.

On the other end, Roland's voice was pitched low, edged with an authority that expected no argument.

"Christian, come to the academic affairs office right now."

"And bring a parent."

Christian had it on speaker.

I sat on the sofa, lifted my teacup, and took a sip.

So it had come, just as I knew it would.

Christian asked.

"Advisor Lambert, has something happened?"

"Has something happened? You've got some nerve, asking me that!"

Roland let out a cold laugh.

"Layla is sitting in my office crying right now! She says you tried to force yourself on her this afternoon, in the fire-exit stairwell on the north side of the library!"

Christian shot to his feet, the color draining from his face.

"I was with my mom at the hotel the whole afternoon. I don't even know where the library is!"

"Yelling at me won't do you any good! That girl's clothes are torn, and her neck is covered in scratches!"

Roland's tone was severe.

"The damage this has done is beyond serious! Both of you, get over here now! If this isn't handled properly, you can forget about staying enrolled!"

The line went dead.

Christian stood there with the phone in his hand, his fingers trembling.

"Has she lost her mind? We didn't even carry her luggage for her!"

I set down my teacup, my eyes going cold.

In my last life, she'd used the pretext of the luggage to frame Christian.

This time, I'd cut off that pretext.

And yet she'd still managed to conjure a "library stairwell" out of thin air.

It seemed she was dead set on destroying Christian.

"Don't be afraid."

I stood and picked up my bag.

"Come on. Mom will go take a look with you."

When we pushed open the door to the academic affairs office, the only sound inside was quiet sobbing.

Layla sat on the sofa, the collar of her blouse ripped more than halfway open, one shoulder bare.

Advisor Roland sat behind the desk, his face dark as a storm.

The moment she saw us come in, Layla cried harder.

"Don't come near me... don't come near me..."

She pointed at Christian, shaking all over.

Christian was so furious his eyes had gone red.

"Layla, what nonsense are you spouting? I never went near the library today!"

Roland slammed his palm down on the desk.

"Christian, you dare to threaten the victim?"

I stepped forward and put Christian behind me.

"It's Advisor Lambert, isn't it? Nothing's been investigated yet. Isn't it a little early to be pinning the 'victim' label on someone?"

Roland frowned at me.

"You're Christian's mother?"

"I am."

"And what kind of parenting is this? The state's top science scorer, and so what if his grades are good? His character is rotten!"

Roland jabbed a finger toward Layla.

"That poor girl just came here from the countryside, pure and innocent. Now your son has terrified her into this state. How is she supposed to hold her head up at this school from now on?"

I pulled over a chair and sat down without ceremony.

"Advisor Lambert, since you're so certain my son did it, where's your evidence?"

Roland sneered.

"Evidence? The injuries on that girl are the evidence! Her clothes are torn to shreds. Are you saying she did that to herself?"

"Why couldn't she have?" I shot back.

Roland choked on that, and then his fury boiled over.