“ording to our star student Mirabe’s approach, these answers are quite borate. For a whiz kid like her, I bet it’s a walk in the park,” the physics teacher remarked casually as he set the papers down. After all, she was a prodigy who could breeze through problems that stump even International Olympiadpetitors.


    Mr. Hammond turned his gaze toward Morgan, his expression unreadable. “Morgan, are you still insisting that I investigate whether Mirabe has been cheating?”


    Morgan stood rooted to the spot, feeling more embarrassed than ever before. The corners of his mouth twitched as he realized that his years of umted professional integrity had just been shattered.


    The silence that filled the room was palpable.


    The physics teacher nced between the two men and then coughed behind his hand, breaking the quiet.


    “By the way. Mr. Hammond, you really should consider my suggestion. Having Mirabe in a humanities ss is a waste of talent. If there’s nothing else we can do, we should at least have her sit in on my physics lectures,” he suggested.


    Mr. Hammond didn’t press Morgan further. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, but he knew that sometimes, stopping just short of an outright usation could instill a deeper sense of shame–a shame that would haunt a person for life.


    Collecting his thoughts, Mr. Hammond replied to the physics teacher, “I’m afraid you’ll have to ask her yourself. I’ve suggested a ss transfer before, but she refused.”


    Morgan’s hand trembled slightly.


    “Alright, I’ll have a word with her. We can’t let such talent go to waste,” the physics teacher said offhandedly. Mr. Hammond offered a wry smile and said no more.


    After lunch, Mirabe returned to the ssroom and sprawledzily across her desk, using a book to shield her eyes from the light.


    Meanwhile, on the school’s forum, an anonymous post surfaced iming Mirabe had cheated in thepetition by getting her hands on the questions in advance. The post even listed her previous grades from the county school, which were far from ster.


    As the forum erupted in spection and gossip,ments poured in.


    [Those grades… they’ve got to be fake, right?]


    [What’s going on this semester? It seems like there’s a new rumor about Queen Mira every other day. Aren’t they tired of getting their faces smacked?]


    Isn’t Mirabe a humanities student? I heard thispetition was heavy on math and science–think about that.]


    I just started stanning Queen Mira, and now I can’t tell fact from fiction. Can someone rify this mess?)


    The post had already amassed hundreds ofments.


    Jenna, sping her phone, rushed back into the ssroom and saw Mirabe still napping. She couldn’t wait any longer and snatched the book off her face, “Mira, we’ve got a big problem.”


    Mirabezily turned her head, still half–asleep and visibly annoyed at being disturbed.


    Jenna touched her nose sheepishly and handed the phone to Mirabe. “Someone’s saying you cheated in thepetition and that you had prior ess to the materials, which is why you alwayse in first.”


    Mirabe barely nced at Jenna’s phone and yawned, “Boring.” She then casually pulled out another book and ced it over her face again.


    Jenna’s lips twitched in frustration. Not daring to disturb Mirabe further, she simply said, “It might be boring, but it’s all over the school forum. If we let them nder you, what will the underssmen think? Whoever posted this clearly wants you out of Parkside High School for good!”


    So annoying!


    Mirabe flipped the book off her face and stood up abruptly, storming out of the room.