My adoptive parents, Albert Johanson and Anita Lane, stood in the doorway, frost clinging to their faces.

Two bodyguards loomed behind them, broad enough to block the hallway lights. Their shadows swallowed the entrance.

The moment Alyssa saw them, her tears broke loose. She wrenched herself free from the crowd and threw herself into Anita's arms.

"Dad, Mom. You're finally here…" She buried her face in Anita's chest and sobbed. "Please don't blame Bree. It's my fault. I caused her to be punished…"

Anita looked stricken. She held Alyssa tight and stroked her back, whispering soft reassurances.

Then she raised her head and looked at me. Disgust filled her eyes. "Bridget, you're beyond saving. When Aly first came back, how many times did I tell you? Give in to your younger sister. Be sensible. Our family fed and clothed you for 18 years. We treated you like our own daughter."

Her voice sharpened. "And this is what we raised? An ungrateful snake with a rotten heart? Aly said you bullied her at home. We didn't believe it at first. We thought you weren't that bad. We even defended you in front of her. But you? You would even cheat on a district exam. You tried to force Aly to take the blame?"

Her gaze was cutting. "Did you think that if you ruined Aly, you could keep your place as the Johanson family's eldest daughter? You're dreaming. A fake will always be a fake. You're not worth even one of Aly's toes."

I had heard those words in my previous life, again and again. I told myself they would not hurt this time. I was wrong.

Thin, sharp pain crept in like needles beneath my skin.

There was a time when Anita stayed up all night at my bedside while I burned with fever. A time when someone called me a bastard child and she marched to their door, dignity cast aside, and demanded an apology.

She once said that both daughters were born from her own blood. She swore she would not neglect me just because Alyssa had come home. Now she took every lie Alyssa spun and drove it into me without hesitation.

"So it's true. Even her parents are saying it."

"See? You never know someone's real face. A fake heiress is still fake. Bad blood runs deep."

Whispers swirled around me, but I ignored them.

I looked at Anita with the last scrap of hope I had left.

"Mom," I said, my voice steady. "Do you really believe I would copy someone else's exam? That I would bully Alyssa at home? Eighteen years together. Does that count for less than a few months of her tears?"

"The facts are right in front of us," Albert snapped.

He strode forward and flung a stack of papers at my feet. The pages skidded across the tile.

"The dean already sent me the evidence. Two identical test papers. Even the typos are the same. What more proof do you want? Alyssa is first in the grade. You're barely scraping by. Do you expect us to believe she copied you?"

His face reddened. "For a recommendation slot, you stooped this low to steal what belongs to Aly. "Do you know how much she suffered growing up in the countryside? She finally earns first place on her own, and you still try to snatch it away? Have you no conscience at all? You've shamed the Johanson family."

In Anita's arms, Alyssa kept crying.

Still, she did not miss the chance to twist the knife. "Dad, please don't be so angry. Bree might have just been confused for a moment. Usually… she treats me fine."

She paused at just the right moment. "Sometimes, she calls me a country bumpkin. Says I don't deserve to enter the Johanson family. Says everything here belongs to her…"

"What?" Anita's voice rose. "She dared to say that to you?"

"I didn't." The words tore out before I could stop them. "I have never said that. And I never needed to fight over any recommendation slot."

I met Albert's eyes, then Anita's. "Did you forget? I received an early admission recommendation letter from Cranston University last month."

I held their gaze. "Why would I need to cheat?"

The room fell silent for a full second. Then laughter burst out.

The dean doubled over the podium, laughing until his eyes watered. "Bridget, if you're going to lie, at least draft it first.

"A Cranston University recommendation? With your usual scores barely scraping the low hundreds? Did you just wake up from a dream?"

Alyssa looked at me with strained patience, as if indulging someone unstable. "Bree, I know you want to prove yourself. But a lie like that? It's too easy to expose."

She let out a soft sigh. "There are only a handful of recommendation spots for Cranston University in the entire state. How could one possibly go to you? You can't even recite the basic formulas."

Albert's face darkened. His hand trembled as he pointed at me.

"To cover your mistake, you invent something this absurd?" His voice rose with each word. "How did the Johanson family raise someone this shameless? Bridget, get on your knees."

The words cracked through the classroom.

"Get on your knees and apologize to Aly. If you don't, I'll break your legs today."

I straightened my spine and stood my ground.

"Why should I apologize?" My voice remained level. "I didn't cheat. I didn't bully her. Everything you're hearing is a script Alyssa wrote for herself."

I swept my gaze across the room. "You have no evidence. Just a few lines from her, and I'm suddenly the villain? Use your brains. If anyone should apologize, it's her. She slandered me in front of—"

A hard slap cut me off.

Pain exploded across my face. The iron taste of blood filled my mouth. My ears rang so loudly that the edges of the room blurred.

Around me, I saw satisfaction and smug relief, as if justice had just been served.

I was done arguing with these people.

I spat the blood onto the floor, lifted my head, and looked straight at the three members of the Johanson family.

"That slap repays the Johanson family for 18 years of raising me." My voice did not waver. "From this moment on, I cut all ties with you."

They froze.

"What did you just say?" Albert's brow knotted.

"You think something as useless as you can survive without the Johanson family?" He gave a cold laugh. "Fine. I'd like to see how long you last. Don't expect us to open the door when you come crawling back."

"I have no interest in Alyssa's so-called first place," I said. "And I would never lower myself to copy it."

Matthew snorted. "This is ridiculous. Bridget, did that slap knock your brain loose? The evidence is solid, and you still dare to say you 'wouldn't lower yourself'?"

He jabbed a finger at me. "Who do you think you are? Some kind of genius prodigy?"

Alyssa dabbed at her tears. For a split second, triumph flashed in her eyes. "Bree, if you don't want to admit it, fine. But why be so stubborn? The whole school knows you're a poor student. You copied. That's all. If you just admit your mistake, Mom and Dad will still forgive you."

Anita pressed a hand to her chest as if she might faint. "What a disgrace. A disgrace to this family. How did the Johanson family end up with a liar who refuses to repent?"

Her voice sharpened. "Get out. Leave this family today. We don't have a daughter like you."

I looked at all of them and felt nothing: no panic, no anger, only clarity.

"Then bring out my original exam paper," I said. "Or pull up the scanned copy from the grading system."

I met Matthew's eyes. "One look, and the truth will be obvious."

Matthew's eyes flickered. "The original papers have already been sealed and sent to the Department of Education as evidence!"

He and Alyssa had clearly planned this from the start. There was no original paper he could produce.

He added quickly, "As for the system, that's for teachers. A cheating student like you has no right to access it. Who knows what you might try to alter?"

He did not spare me another glance. He turned to Albert and spoke with urgency. "Mr. Johanson, this student has severely damaged our school's reputation. She shows no remorse and even talks back to her parents and teachers. I recommend immediate expulsion. We should issue a school-wide notice and enforce it at once."

"Expel her," Albert said coldly. "Immediately. Keeping a disaster like this only brings shame. She has already humiliated the Johanson family enough."

He spun toward the doorway and shouted, "Security! Where is campus security? Throw her out. From now on, she is not allowed to set foot in this school."

The guards waiting outside rushed in. Their heavy steps echoed across the floor as they closed in around me, faces set and unyielding.

The hallway had filled with students. The moment they heard the word expelled, cheers and insults erupted at once.

"Finally! Good riddance!"

"Should've kicked her out sooner!"

"Get out! Get out!"

Crumpled paper flew through the open door. An apple core struck my shoulder, and sticky juice soaked into my sleeve.

"You bullied our school belle Alyssa? Go to hell!"

"Shameless cheater!"

The crowd roared.

I stood in the center like a rat caught in the open street, surrounded and attacked from every side.

A guard seized my arm. His fingers dug in with bruising force. "Move. Now. Stop causing trouble."

He shoved me. I staggered and barely kept my footing.

Behind Anita, Alyssa curved her lips into a small, triumphant smile.

I saw it all in that packed hallway: Alyssa's smug eyes, my parents' cold faces. Something inside me burned clean.

"Let go."

I tore my arm free.

"You want evidence?" My voice sliced through the noise. "You said I copied a perfect paper?"

I crossed the room in three strides and reached Matthew's desk. A desktop computer sat there, connected to the school's broadcast system and the electronic display screens in the corridor.

Matthew's face drained of color. "What are you doing? Have you lost your mind? Stop her!"

The guards lunged again.

I moved faster. "Then open your eyes and look."

I slammed the Enter key. In the next second, the office monitor lit up. So did the long row of electronic screens outside, the ones that usually displayed model students and honor roll lists.

The corridor, loud as a marketplace moments earlier, fell silent.

Everyone looked up.

On the screen was my exam answer sheet. It was blank. Every section stood empty. In the essay box, drawn in thick black ink, was a huge turtle.

Beside it, scrawled in wild, arrogant strokes: [What are you staring at? Never seen someone turn in a blank paper?]