These had been edited. Photoshopped. AI-enhanced. The footage of me getting jumped had been transformed into something else entirely—me partying with a group of heavily made-up older women.
Students heading into the exam hall froze in their tracks.
"Oh my god, is that—that's disgusting! Taking photos like that? Those women look old enough to be his mom!"
"Kids these days have no shame. And right by the school, too!"
"Wait, I know him! That's Alvin from Class Eight!"
"Tsk, tsk. Looks so proper on the outside. Who knew he was into this kind of thing?"
"Getting freaky with sugar mamas in back alleys? Interesting."
"Christina!"
I grabbed her collar.
"Take it down! Take it down now!"
But she just shoved me away, laughing as she pointed at the screen.
"What's wrong? Isn't that you? You love snitching so much—well, now everyone knows your little secret. Why so shy all of a sudden?"
"That's not me!"
My voice cracked.
She just laughed harder as the bodyguards escorted her toward the exam hall. At the entrance, she turned back.
"Alvin, Myron is my everything. You've targeted him again and again. So now I'm giving you a taste of your own medicine."