Every Time I Check My Score, It Resets to Zero Chapter 09

The moment Mr. Hale’s eyes landed on the microphone, its glowing red indicator cutting through

As arrogance, his entire body froze.

“You…” His Adam’s apple bobbed hard, his voice coming out hoarse.

“The whole school heard you,” I said, stepping up to the console and tapping the live the microphone. “Including the State Department of Education officials sitting in the auditoriun

My voice echoed through the entire campus via the PA system.

“They all heard you clearly, didn’t they, Mr. Hale?”

A wave of shocked noise erupted from the freshmen and sophomores lined up on the field, waiting

to enter the auditorium.

From the direction of the auditorium, I faintly heard chairs scraping and tables being knocked

aside.

Mr. Hale lunged at me in a rage.

“You little bitch, I’ll kill you!”

His hand swung toward my face.

I stepped aside and grabbed the insulated tumbler from his desk, slamming it into his forehead.

There was a heavy crack.

Mr. Hale screamed, clutching his bleeding head as he collapsed to the floor.

The office door burst open.

Several coaches rushed in, followed by Principal Graham Whitlock, his face livid, and a few

education officials in dress shirts.

“Stop her!” Mr. Hale shrieked from the floor, pointing at me. “She’s mentally ill! She’s trying to

kill me!”

I did not run.

Calmly, I stood in place and handed the backup phone to the education official closest to me.

“Sir, the post just went live.”

I glanced at the wall clock.

2:05 p.m.

The official frowned, took out his phone, and opened X.

After only two glances, his face changed.

The top trending topic was already burning red:

#Complete Evidence That Brookhaven’s Top SAT Scorer Had Her Admission Stolen#

The principal leaned in to look, and his knees nearly buckled under him.

Once public opinion exploded, this was no longer something a few people in Brookhaven could

bury.

“Call the police,” the education official ordered at once. “And notify the state office immediately.”

Without bothering to look at Mr. Hale, who was still collapsed on the floor, he pushed through the

crowd and strode out.

The moment I walked out of the school gates, the backup phone vibrated.

Dad’s number flashed on the screen.

I answered.

“Elena Chase! What the hell did you do?” Dad’s roar nearly split my eardrum. “Get home right now!

Garrett is here with people!”

“Sure,” I said, looking up at the sun, my voice calm. “I’m coming back.”

I hung up and hailed a cab.

This was their last struggle.

When I pushed open the apartment door, the living room was stifling, crammed with familiar and

unfamiliar faces.

Dad, Mom, Uncle Victor, and several unfamiliar men in jackets stood inside.

Sitting in the center of the couch was a heavyset middle–aged man.

Ethan’s father.

Garrett Lowell.

Stacks of cash were piled on the coffee table.

“Elena’s back.” Mom rushed over and clamped her hand around my arm. “Hurry. Apologize to Mr. Lowell and delete everything you posted!”

ncle Victor walked over with a cold face and snatched my phone.

“Why waste time talking? Just smash the damn thing.”

He raised the phone and hurled it to the floor.

crushing the glass into blackness.

Garrett did not move.

He lit a cigar.

“Not bad, little girl,” he said, pointing at the money on the coffee table. “That’s one hundred fifty

thousand dollars in cash.”

He exhaled a mouthful of smoke, his eyes full of contempt.

“Add that to the four hundred fifty thousand I already gave your family. Six hundred thousand total. Delete the post and record a retraction video saying you fabricated it all during a mental

breakdown.”

He tapped his fingers against the table.

“Take the money. Your brother gets his house. Your whole family lives comfortably. Otherwise, do you really think you can take me down?”

Dad shoved me and growled under his breath, “What are you standing there for? Do what Mr. Lowell told you.”