I knew Vanessa wouldn’t give up easily, so I prepared myself to collect evidence early. Back in the dorm, I switched on my phone’s recording function.
My past life had taught me one lesson: the weak are bullied, but the strong are respected.
Soon, two of my roommates returned, looking at me with mixed expressions.
Grace Parker grabbed my hand.
“Emily, weren’t you too harsh today? We’re all roommates—no matter what she did, you shouldn’t have hit her.”
“Vanessa’s actually a good person. She’s just from a small town, insecure, and only wanted to fit in by joking around.”
Chloe Adams nodded.
“Yeah, she looked so pitiful, I couldn’t stand it.”
Of course—it’s always easy to ask for forgiveness when you’re not the victim. That was how it went in my past life too—everyone told me to be the bigger person, to overlook her cruelty.
This time, I didn’t argue. I simply pulled out more evidence from my closet.
“Look at these. She altered all of my dresses—if you can even call it ‘altering.’ She cut them apart, tore them into rags. She turned every long dress into a miniskirt so short it shows my underwear.”
I held up another outfit.