I Took The Same Exam, They Only Celebrated Her Chapter 07

I Took The Same Exam, They Only Celebrated Her Chapter 07

After it was confirmed the reporters had come for me, Mom bit her lip, her expression twisting with

annoyance. “That child… she didn’t even tell us she was taking the SAT. Made us look like complete fools on

live TV.”

Having gone from the highest high to the lowest low, Rory was still ugly–crying in Liam’s arms. “She did this

on purpose! She set us up!”

“Whether she meant to or not, it’s fantastic news,” Grandma cut in, her voice sharp. She glared at my mom

with displeasure. “You never once went to a parent–teacher conference for her? How can a mother not even

know what grade her own daughter is in?”

Mom’s mouth opened, then closed. They all suddenly remembered the times I’d come to them for help with

schoolwork, only to be met with waves of undisguised irritation. So, I just stopped asking.

Parent–teacher conference? “They’re busy.”

Signature needed? I learned to forge their handwriting.

My teachers never doubted me. My GPA was flawless.

“But… Vivi’s grades were never as good as her sister’s,” Mom murmured, a desperate, flimsy defense, as she

dialed my number over and over.

Dead air. Straight to voicemail.

From the doorway, a neighbor yelled, “Where does the girl even work? Just go find her!”

Silence. Thick, humiliating silence.

They didn’t know. Not one of them knew where I’d been working all week.

The lead reporter sighed, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen anything like this in my entire career. A state

scholar doing manual labor, and her own family didn’t even know she took the SAT.”

My parents‘ faces flushed a deep, burning red.

A man from the crowd spoke up. “I, uh, I think I saw Vivi before. At a construction site over on Fifth. Even

chatted with her.”

“Well, what are we all standing here for? Let’s go!”

The whole chaotic procession set off. When they arrived, the site was full of nothing but burly, sweating

men.

“Hey, pal, you got a girl named Vivi Hayes working here?”

“Vivi? Yeah, the Vivi girl.” The foreman wiped his brow, grinning. “Something happen to her?”

“We’re here to interview the state’s top SAT scholar!”

His jaw dropped. He slapped his thigh in disbelief. “You’re kidding me.” He laughed, then shouted, “Wait right

here!”

The morning sun was already brutal, beating down so hard Rory could barely keep her eyes open. She tugged at Mom’s sleeve. “Mom, I’m literally roasting. Let’s just go home. This is so embarrassing.”

For the first time in her life, Mom snatched her arm away, her voice icy cold. “A few minutes in the sun and you’re whining? What about Vivi? She’s been doing back–breaking labor here for days, not a single day of

rest, and you’re complaining about a little heat?”

She swept her gaze across the construction site, her eyes rimming red.

“Probably just someone with the same name,” Asher said with a light laugh, trying to soothe Rory. “Vivi’s too

frail. There’s no way she could handle this kind of work.”

Liam glanced at them, then lowered his head and stayed silent, staring at the ground.

The foreman came back out, rubbing his hands together. “Nah, Vivi got her pay yesterday and quit. Said she was finally going back to school to start her new life. I always thought she was some rich kid doing an

undercover boss thing,” he said with a chuckle. “Turns out she’s a genius.”

And then, right into the news camera, the foreman told them everything. My grueling hours, the sweat, the filth. He even wiped a genuine tear from the corner of his eye when he described the day a brick crushed my

finger.

“She… never told us she was hurt,” Mom choked out, her brows knitting together tightly.

“When it happened,” the foreman added, his voice turning hard, “I asked if she needed me to call her family. Know what she said? She looked me dead in the eye and said, ‘They won’t believe me. They’ll just say I’m

faking it for attention.”

The words caught in Mom’s throat. She bit her lip, and big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

“So… she’s already left for college? Just like that?” my aunt wailed, sounding more frantic than my own

parents. “Oh god, what if something happened to her?!”

“Let’s go back and check if her things are still there,” someone suggested, a grim note in their voice. “If they

are, and she’s gone… we need to call the cops.”

And so the whole massive group stormed back to the house.

Mom stood frozen before my door, her hand hovering, unable–or unwilling–to turn the knob.

Grandma rolled her eyes at her. “What are you dawdling for?”

She threw the door open.