?Chapter 339:


    Maia turned slowly to face the teacher, studying her with an unreadable expression. She did not believe a word of it. Not for a second.


    Ethan was many things, but he was never cruel, never the kind of boy who would throw the first punch.


    Before Maia could respond, Loraine continued, “Our ss is full of outstanding students. Given your brother’s behavior, I suggest moving him to ss Two, which is more suitable for someone like him. I mean, the family background and academic record of the students there are simr to Ethan’s, so maybe they have something inmon to talk about and can get along well.”


    The meaning behind her words could not have been clearer. ss Two was a polite way of saying second-rate.


    The best teachers, the rare resources, the prestigious connections — those belonged to ss One. ss Two students were left to fend for themselves, with little more than the scraps.


    Maia’s smile barely touched her lips. “Ms. Harvey,” she said coolly, “I’m not interested in knowing the difference between ss One and ss Two, because I won’t let you shift Ethan to another ss. First, please tell me — are you absolutely certain Ethan started the fight?”


    “Of course I am! The other students witnessed everything,” Loraine snapped. “And Ethan confessed!”


    Maia barely acknowledged her. Instead, she walked to the window, standing in front of Ethan and tilting her head to meet his downcast eyes.


    “Ethan,” she said softly, “tell me what happened. Was it really like they say?”


    The boy’s lower lip quivered. His hands twisted the hem of his shirt, fingers white at the knuckles.


    “Do you believe me, Maia?” he whispered hoarsely, so low that she barely heard.


    Her chest ached at the sight of him. She reached up, smoothing his messy hair with a tenderness that seemed to steady him a little.


    “I will always believe you,” she said. No hesitation. No conditions.


    Ethan’s shoulders trembled. Tears welled again, clinging stubbornly to hisshes. Bit by bit, he stammered out the pieces of the story, the words clumsy and broken from shame and fear.


    As Maia listened, a storm brewed inside her. Her hand, resting lightly on his back, clenched into a fist. Fury uncoiled in her chest, cold and sharp, until it carved a scowl onto her face.


    Before she could speak, Loraine barged back in, her voice dripping with irritation. “Ms. Watson, it is hardly fair to listen to only one side. The other students have already written statements. They all confirm Ethan lost his temper, pushed his ssmates, and struck them without cause! As a family member, you should exercise better judgment and avoid tant favoritism.”


    Loraine’s gaze darted toward the cluster of students, a silent cue. Like marites on strings, they rushed to echo her usations.


    “Yeah! We all saw it happen!”


    “He just could not fit in, and now he is trying to me us. It is disgusting!”


    “First, he got scolded for not paying attention. Then he tripped over his own feet andshed out at us. And now he wants to y the victim? Pathetic.”


    One by one, the students twisted Ethan’s words, each ount painting him as the aggressor, as if rehearsed.


    Maia’s cold gaze swept across the room, lingering briefly on each face before returning to Loraine. Her eyes drifted deliberately toward the openptop resting on the desk, and she spoke with quiet certainty. “Since you im that one-sided ounts are unreliable, then surely these students’ words alone cannot be taken as gospel either. Hearing is one thing, but seeing — seeing is believing.”


    Without rush, she crossed the room, her steps measured, her cool gaze fixed on Loraine. Stopping by the desk, Maia asked, her voice as calm as still water, “May I borrow theptop for a moment?”


    Loraine stiffened, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face. “What do you need theptop for?” she asked, her tone tight.


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