She Stole My Future, Then Called Herself Justice Chapter 04

She Stole My Future, Then Called Herself Justice Chapter 04

The other end stayed quiet for a long time before an old, trembling voice answered.

“Claire? The Claire who scored 1560 on the admissions exam?”

“Yes, Mr. Whitman.”

My eyes stung.

I almost cried.

Mr. Whitman had been my senior-year advisor in high school.

Strict, but always on the students’ side.

Back then, he believed in me more than anyone.

He said I would do something truly meaningful in the legal world one day.

“Where have you been all these years, kid?”

His voice shook slightly.

“When your acceptance letter came, I was so happy I couldn’t sleep. But then you never showed up for enrollment. I called your house and your stepmother said you went to work. I never believed it.”

“Mr. Whitman, what happened back then isn’t easy to explain in a few words.”

I gave him a quick summary of how my admission had been stolen.

On the other end, Mr. Whitman coughed angrily.

“This is outrageous! It’s a crime.”

“You’ve suffered so much, child.”

He let out a long sigh.

“What do you need from me? As long as I’m still breathing, I’ll help you.”

“Sir, I need you to prove what kind of student I really was back then.”

“No problem. I still have all the score records and mock exams from your graduating class. I remember every single one of your results.”

After hanging up, I finally felt a little warmth in my chest.

At least someone in this world still remembered me.

At least someone still believed me.

Then I started scrolling through my contacts.

Ten years as a delivery driver had taken me to every corner of the city.

I knew people from all walks of life.

My phone held over a thousand numbers.

Office workers.

Construction workers.

Diner owners.

And people who operated in gray areas.

I found a contact saved as Milo “Scorpion” Reyes.

Milo was an information broker.

If you could pay his fee, he could dig up almost anything.

The call connected.

“Who’s this?”

“Milo, it’s me. Claire from Eastbridge deliveries.”

“Claire? What’s up? Bike get stolen again?”

“No. I need to find someone and look into something.”

I told him about how Vanessa might have hired a records fixer ten years ago to forge student documents.

“Ten years ago? That won’t be easy to dig up.”

Milo paused for a few seconds.

“Money isn’t the issue.”

“Now we’re talking. Send me everything you know.”

Not long after I hung up, Milo’s message came through.

“Found the guy. The fixer who handled it for them back then is still alive.”

Attached was a short video.

In the frame, a white-haired man sat behind bars, looking up at the camera, his voice hoarse.

“You’re saying the girl who stole someone else’s college spot is now a big-shot attorney?”

After watching, I called Olivia’s assistant, Audrey Lane.

“I agree to the livestream settlement.”

The relief in her voice was obvious.

“Good, Claire. Just don’t do anything extra.”

I looked at the fresh documents I had just received and laughed softly.

“Don’t worry. Tomorrow on the livestream, I won’t say a single word wrong.”

“Claire, are you sure? People who say the wrong thing pay a price.”

I smiled.

I’m never the one who says the wrong thing.