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Chapter 637
Chapter 637:
Cheryl Juarez stood at the podium. She had shoved the designated announcer aside. Her face was flushed red, her eyes manic with triumph.
“Look at the screen!” Cheryl screamed into the microphone, her voice echoing violently across the plaza. “Look at the thief p>
She pointed a thick, trembling finger directly at Effie.
“That girl, Effie Carson, is a cheat!” Cheryl bellowed, her voice dripping with venomous satisfaction. “She spent the entire exam copying the answers from my grandson, Kaiden Lancaster! She is a fraud p>
The crowd erupted.
Whispers turned into angry shouts. Parents who had spent thousands of dollars on tutors felt a sudden, violent surge of self-righteous fury. They turned and glared at Isolde and Effie. The physical weight of their collective judgment was crushing.
Effie’s small hand clamped down on Isolde’s fingers with terrifying force. The little girl’s face turned completely white. She shrank back, trying to disappear behind her mother’s legs, her breathing turning rapid and shallow.
“I didn’t,” Effie whimpered, her voice trembling. “Mommy, I didn’t look at his paper p>
𝗟а𝗍𝘦st c𝗁𝖺pte𝗋s оn
“I know, baby. I know,” Isolde said, her voice a low, steady anchor in the storm.
Isolde looked up at the screen. Her analytical mind instantly dissected the footage.
The camera was positioned behind and to the left of Effie, compressing the depth of field. Yes, Effie had turned her head to the right — but she was not looking down at Kaiden’s desk. She was looking up. She was looking at the digital countdown clock mounted on the wall on the right side of the hall.
It was a forced perspective trick. A malicious, deliberate manipulation of visual data.
Isolde’s eyes cut to the side of the stage.
Standing near the back of the tech booth, partially obscured by heavy black velvet curtains, was Belle Escobar. She held no bag of cash — she hadn’t needed one. Using her high-level sponsor administrative override code, a remnant of the Lancaster-InnoTech partnership agreement, she had granted herself remote access to the local network. With a few frantic, cold-blooded taps on her smartphone, she had bypassed the security protocols and uploaded the edited footage directly into the broadcast queue. Her eyes gleamed with a toxic, manic triumph as she watched the crowd turn on Isolde’s daughter.
On the main stage, Cheryl scrambled up the steps and violently snatched the primary microphone from the stunned announcer.
“Security!” Cheryl screamed, her voice booming across the entire hall. “Remove that cheating brat from the premises! Disqualify her immediately p>
Three large, uniformed security guards pushed their way through the angry crowd, heading straight for Isolde and Effie. The head judge of the competition, a stern-looking man with a clipboard, followed closely behind them.
The guards formed a semicircle around Isolde, cutting off her exit.
“Ma’am,” the head judge said, his voice loud and accusatory. “You and your daughter need to come with us to the holding room. She is officially disqualified pending a full investigation p>
Isolde did not move. She pulled Effie fully behind her, using her own body as a shield.