She Stole My Future, Then Called Herself Justice Chapter 07

She Stole My Future, Then Called Herself Justice Chapter 07

The moment Victor Shaw finished speaking, the entire studio went completely silent.

Not a single sound.

The producer must have been frozen in shock and forgot to cut the feed.

The whole country watched live as Olivia’s face lost all color.

Her lips trembled.

She tried to speak, but could not get a word out.

Those eyes that used to dominate courtrooms and play innocent on camera now held nothing but pure panic.

“No… that’s not…”

She finally forced out a few words, her voice shrill.

“It’s fake! The video is fake! She set me up.”

She shot to her feet, pointing at me, completely losing control.

“It’s you! You faked all of this. You want to ruin me.”

Camille snapped out of it too, grabbing the mic, her face pale.

“Control room! Cut to commercial. Now.”

But it was too late.

I stood up and walked over to Olivia.

Ten years.

This was the first time I could watch her panic and feel completely calm.

“Olivia, aren’t you the one who’s always talking about evidence?”

I pulled two things from my pocket.

One was my old, yellowed exam admission card with my eighteen-year-old photo.

The other was a printed screenshot of my score report.

The test number, name, and scores matched Mr. Whitman’s records exactly.

I placed them on the table.

“This is my admission card. This is my score report.”

“We have witnesses. We have records.”

“How are you going to spin this now?”

Olivia staggered back, barely able to stand.

She stared at the evidence on the table, then at me.

Her denial cracked piece by piece until there was nothing left but panic.

“No…”

She stumbled backward, hit the sofa, and fell onto it in a heap.

Security and staff finally reacted, rushing in to control the scene.

Camera flashes went off nonstop.

Reporters shoved mics and lenses toward us.

In the chaos, I saw Vanessa and several relatives rushing out from the audience seats.

“What are you doing? Why are you grabbing my daughter?”

Vanessa yanked at the security guards’ clothes, screaming like a madwoman.

“The video is fake. She made it all up. She’s just jealous of my daughter.”

I looked at her.

“Vanessa, Victor Shaw already turned over the bank transfer records you sent him to the police.”

“Every single payment.”

Vanessa’s voice cut off instantly.

All the color drained from her face, just like Olivia’s.

In that moment, I almost wanted to laugh.

This mother and daughter even lost the same way, like they were cut from the same mold.