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Chapter 642
Chapter 642:
The head judge’s hands were trembling slightly. He reached back into Effie’s envelope and withdrew a second sheet of paper — the handwritten free-response section. He placed it face-up beneath a high-resolution document camera.
Effie’s neat, precise handwriting filled the LED screen.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the head judge said, his voice hushed with genuine awe. “The final question was a theoretical coding logic problem. Not only did Miss Carson solve it p>
He pointed a trembling finger at the screen.
“She bypassed the standard algorithmic structure entirely,” he continued, his voice carrying across the silent hall. “She utilized a foundational low-level optimization sequence that is currently only theorized in post-graduate quantum computing papers. It is… it is brilliant p>
In the front row, three university professors serving as guest judges rose simultaneously from their seats.
And they began to clap.
Within seconds, the applause spread. The entire plaza erupted into a deafening, thunderous standing ovation, thousands of people cheering for the small girl standing at the back of the room.
Isolde did not look at the screen. She did not look at the cheering crowd.
𝖱е𝗰о𝗆𝗆𝗲𝗻d 𝗍𝘰 y𝘰𝘶𝗋 𝘧𝘳𝗶𝘦𝘯𝗱ѕ
She looked up at the stage.
She locked her cold, dead eyes onto Cheryl and Belle.
“I have a question for the Lancaster representatives,” Isolde called out, her voice cutting through the applause with the precision of a sniper’s bullet, dripping with lethal, mocking contempt.
The crowd near her quieted, turning to listen.
“Can someone please explain to me,” Isolde asked, her words echoing in the sudden hush, “why a student who scores a perfect one hundred would ever need to cheat off a student who scores a pathetic forty-two p>
The logic was absolute. It was an undeniable, physical proof of innocence.
The crowd turned their collective gaze toward the stage. The admiration they felt for Effie instantly curdled into vicious, burning disgust for the two women who had tried to frame her.
“They set her up!” a man yelled from the crowd.
“Disgusting!” a woman screamed. “Calling a genius a cheat to cover up for that idiot boy p>
The crowd began to boo, pointing fingers at Belle and Cheryl. The hostility was palpable.
Cheryl panicked. She grabbed Kaiden’s arm and practically dragged the screaming boy down the back stairs of the stage, fleeing into the shadows.
Belle stood frozen at the podium. Her visionary reputation, her saintly facade, her entire social standing — all of it was burning to ash in front of thousands of people. The humiliation was so intense it made her physically sick. She turned and ran off the stage, her high heels slipping on the metal stairs as she fled the building.
Isolde knelt down and wrapped her arms tightly around Effie, burying her face in her daughter’s hair. Effie hugged her back, pressing her face into Isolde’s neck.
At the far end of the plaza, standing near the exit doors, was Carter Harrington. He had arrived early to collect his son Leo, intending to simply wait in the car, but the unfolding drama had drawn him inside. He stood in his bespoke charcoal suit, arms crossed, watching the public dismantling of Belle Escobar’s credibility with an expression of cold, professional assessment.