My junior accidentally broke the most expensive piece of equipment in the lab and asked me to help fix it.

I had just started touching the instrument when she suddenly stepped back, tears brimming, and said, "Michelle, I can't take responsibility for this. I really can't afford it."

Before I could even process her words, Nicky Hardy—the unattainable crush I had chased for three years—rushed in and shielded her behind him. Then he turned to me with a glare that could freeze fire.

"Michelle, don't go too far. You can't expect her to take the fall for you."

I stared at him, dumbfounded. "You know full well I was shoved into this research group. I don't understand any of this stuff. How could I do the experiments on my own?"

His eyes grew colder, dripping with disdain.

"I've been saying it—what can a nepo baby actually accomplish? And now the equipment's ruined, and you still have the nerve to push the blame onto Elizabeth?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but then I caught a flicker of triumph across Elizabeth Horwitz's face in Nicky's arms. That was when it clicked.

They only knew I got in through connections—they had no idea I'd financed this very equipment myself.

They wanted to play their petty power games over a piece of lab equipment worth over ten million?

Interesting.

I was too lazy to waste words on them and simply pointed to the corner where the camera hung. "Whoever broke it, the footage will show, won't it?"

Nicky Hardy let out a derisive snort.

"And who else could it be but you? Elizabeth has always cherished these instruments. And you—know nothing and still insisted on joining the research group."

I looked at him and couldn't help but smirk.

He clearly knew I joined the research group just for him.

I had confessed to him once. He had said, cool and detached, "Michelle, I don't deserve you."

At the time, I thought he was just reserved and slow to warm up. After all, he never rejected my presence. We'd have the occasional meal together, and he'd smile at me. I stayed up late helping him organize literature, and he'd bring me a cup of tea. During holidays, he'd even give me little gifts.

He dangled me there. Neither cold nor warm, neither distant nor near—just occasionally tossing me a sweet, letting me think I had a chance.

And now, he stood in front of me, cradling someone else in his arms, looking at me like I was trash.

Elizabeth poked her head out from behind him just in time and whispered, "Michelle, I know you're under a lot of pressure. The professor suddenly put you in the group, and everyone thought it was strange… but the equipment's broken, and someone has to take responsibility."

Her voice was soft, gentle, even tinged with sympathetic understanding.

"Besides, the professor said this equipment is very valuable. I can understand why you'd be afraid of being held accountable. Why don't we try to figure out a way to fix it first?"

Before she finished, Nicky grabbed her wrist.

"No. We're not professional repairmen. If we try to help her, we'll only end up worse off."

I watched him recoil as if I were radioactive and couldn't help but chuckle.

I turned to Elizabeth.

"You know this equipment is worth over ten million, right? A single repair would cost millions. Before you try to frame me, consider the consequences. If you speak honestly now, I might still help you."

The room went quiet for a few seconds.

Nicky shot a suspicious glance at Elizabeth, as if my unwavering tone had shaken him for a brief moment.

But Elizabeth's voice carried a plaintive whimper, "Michelle, if you know the consequences, then don't pin this on me. We're adults—we should all take responsibility for our own actions."

Tears fell from her eyes, each drop hitting the floor with a soft pat, painting the perfect picture of a girl utterly wronged.

Just then, the lab door opened. A few students from the neighboring group had heard the commotion and came over to watch.

The moment they stepped inside, they caught Elizabeth's tearful voice saying, "Michelle, you usually rely on your connections, and your lack of skills goes unchecked. But this time is different. This equipment breaking is a serious matter…"

The senior students at the door instantly looked at me differently and began whispering among themselves.

"That instrument is broken? We should stay far away from her from now on. Otherwise, we'll be the ones taking the hit. That thing costs a fortune."

"She usually acts so high and mighty, but when she screws up, she won't admit it."

"Poor Elizabeth… stuck with someone like her."

Each word felt like a needle, stabbing me one by one.

Before I could even react, Elizabeth, overhearing, cried harder, her shoulders trembling as she shrank into Nicky's arms.

I drew a deep breath and said, "Fine. If everyone's already decided it was me, let's check the footage and see."

Elizabeth's eyes flickered. She bit her lip, wearing the expression of someone wronged yet forced to endure it.

"Michelle, I didn't do anything wrong. Why should I be afraid?"

She lifted her head, tears shimmering in her eyes, and looked at Nicky.

"Nicky, go copy the footage. Let everyone see the truth."

Nicky furrowed his brow, as if to argue, but finally turned and walked to the surveillance room.

Five minutes later, he returned with a USB drive and projected the footage onto the lab's white wall.

The video showed only two people in the lab.

Me. And Elizabeth.

I stood next to the equipment. She stood a few steps behind me.

And then, only I reached out and touched the instrument.

The part where Elizabeth guided me to check the malfunction simply vanished.

From the crowd at the door came quiet whispers.

"So bold, checking the footage like that. Thought she was innocent, huh?"

"Isn't it obvious? She did it. What's there to discuss?"

"Nothing to lose anyway. She can't afford it, so she might as well play dirty to the end."

Nicky turned off the projection and fixed me with a cold stare.

"See that? You touched it."

I didn't look at him. My eyes were glued to the looping footage on the wall. He copied the footage himself. That missing section—who else could it be but him?

Three years. Even a wild animal learns to wag its tail after three years. But Nicky? He only knew how to bite.

"Call the police," I said.

The room fell silent for a second.

Nicky frowned. "What?"

I met his eyes. "If you've decided I'm the one who broke it, let the police handle it. Civil dispute or deliberate damage, someone has to be held accountable."

Elizabeth's face changed slightly, but she quickly returned to her pitiful, helpless look.

"Michelle, do you really need to make such a scene? We're classmates—we still have to get along later."

Nicky stepped forward, his tone softening slightly.

"Michelle, think about it. Scandals like this shouldn't be made public. If the police find you're responsible, you'll not only pay for it—you'll ruin your reputation. If you admit a mistake now, we can still help you figure something out."

I looked at his high-handed, condescending offer and felt nothing but disgust.

Then Elizabeth suddenly spoke up, "Maybe… we should contact the professor first? Even though he's out on research, maybe he has a solution."

She pulled out her phone, looking at me with hopeful eyes.

"Michelle, don't worry. Let's ask the professor first. It's better than fretting here on our own."

I smirked inwardly.

Fine. Let's see how long these two can keep up their act.

Elizabeth quickly dialed the professor, putting the call on speaker.

"Hello, Professor Belfort? This is Elizabeth Horwitz. I'm sorry to bother you, but there's been an accident in the lab—the new equipment is broken. Yes… Michelle Ailes broke it. She's really worried and wants to ask if you have any suggestions."

Elizabeth's voice was soft, tinged with helplessness and indignation, perfectly playing the role of an innocent junior caught in the crossfire.

Professor Belfort, clearly busy on the other end, spoke succinctly.

"That equipment was sponsored by Oakmont Group. The contract includes one free maintenance. Don't panic—when I have time, I'll contact Oakmont and have them send someone over to fix it."

Elizabeth bit her lip, still dissatisfied, pressing further, "Professor, what about Michelle? After all, it was her mishandling that caused the damage. Shouldn't there be some consequence? Otherwise, if everyone operates carelessly, things will get out of control in the lab. Maybe Michelle should leave the research group? Other students will surely object if she stays."

Ah, the dagger in the folds.

All this fuss, all this maneuvering, was just to push me out of the research group.

First, she liked Nicky. Nicky and I had always been entangled in an unclear relationship; she had long considered me a rival.

Second, the field had very few women. She had been the department's star pupil, the sole female genius in a sea of men. Now, in the research group, the two of us were the only girls, and she had been quietly competing with me ever since.

But Professor Belfort, on the phone, said only, "No need. It may not even be Michelle who broke it. Even if it was, she certainly didn't do it on purpose. We'll discuss the details when I return."

With that, he hung up.

Elizabeth gripped her phone, her face twitching with suppressed frustration. After a moment, she forced a smile, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Michelle, you're something else. Even after causing such a huge mess, Professor Belfort still backs you up."

I didn't bother arguing. I said flatly, "Elizabeth, instead of spending your energy on petty schemes, focus on reading more literature. You've been in the research group for two years and don't have a single first-author paper. At this rate, graduating is going to be a problem."

Her face stiffened, like I had stepped on a nerve.

I ignored her and walked straight out of the lab.

The next morning, I sensed something was off the moment I arrived at the university.

Clusters of students on the walkway lowered their voices and whispered when they saw me, their eyes scanning me like I was some rare spectacle.

I frowned, pulled out my phone, and opened the campus forum that had just pushed a notification.

The top post bore a flaming "HOT" label: [Shocking: Top Professor Allegedly Having Affair with Female Student—Placed Her in Cutting-Edge Research Group and Covered Up Multi-Million-Dollar Equipment Damage!]

The post was detailed, painting a vivid picture.

It claimed I had an inappropriate relationship with Professor Belfort, which was why I was forcibly placed in the group. It claimed I usually acted entitled, and now that I'd caused a major accident, the professor personally called to shield me.

The comments had already stretched across several pages.

[That's her? I know her—she chased after our campus heartthrob Nicky for years. He didn't even look at her, yet she clung on relentlessly.]

[Shameless! She'll do anything.]

[The professor seems so upright… and yet he would condone this? Don't judge a book by its cover.]

[I heard her family has connections; otherwise, how could she manipulate the professor?]

The post had even been shared across social media, gaining traction at an alarming speed.

I scrolled through the comments one by one. Each was more disgusting than the last.

I put my phone away, took a deep breath, and headed toward the lab.

The moment I opened the door, everyone inside lifted their heads in unison, their eyes glinting with the same contempt reserved for a rat in the street.

Elizabeth saw me and immediately curled her lips into a smug smile.

"Michelle is here. Congratulations on finally being off the market."

A few suppressed chuckles rippled through the room.

I smiled.

"Elizabeth, what do you mean by that?"

She blinked innocently.

"Am I mistaken? The forum says… you and Professor Belfort…"