The Real Daughter Said I Copied Her？Oops, My Test Was Blank Chapter 06
Harrison Wells shot Morrison a look, then turned to the officials in dark suits behind him.
“Everyone—since we’ve received a report that this school’s administration falsified evidence in an academic integrity investigation, I’m asking you to conduct an on-site review.”
“The proctoring system and the answer sheet archive are physically isolated from each other.”
“Unless someone breached both the College Board’s firewall and Winslow’s internal network within the same minute—what’s on those screens is the original data.”
The lead investigator—a middle-aged man—nodded and adjusted his glasses.
“Our cybersecurity team has already run the check. There’s no trace of any intrusion into the system.”
He held up his tablet. On the screen was the scan of the answer sheet with the turtle drawn on it.
“This is the original answer sheet submitted by Lena Walsh.”
The last shred of cover was ripped away.
Sophia’s face went white as paper. She swayed, barely staying upright by gripping Eleanor’s arm.
“Th—that can’t be right…”
Eleanor muttered, her eyes hollow and lost.
“Sophia said…”
“Why not?”
I let out a cold laugh, looking at Morrison—his face was gray, lifeless.
“Principal Morrison. Care to explain?”
“Since I turned in a blank test, who wrote that so-called ‘perfect score’ you’ve been waving around?”
“Or did you forge the evidence yourself—just to help certain people keep their top spot, and crush the adopted daughter in the process?”
Morrison had completely fallen apart.
He dropped to his knees with a thud, grabbing Harrison Wells’ pant leg, tears and snot running down his face:
“Dr. Wells! Dr. Wells, I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking straight—I swear!”
“It was… it was Sophia Walsh!”
“She came to me crying, saying Lena was bullying her.”
“She promised the Walsh family would make a huge donation—enough to build a new library—if I just got Lena out of Winslow…”
“I got greedy… I never meant for it to blow up like this!”
The room erupted.
Every pair of eyes turned on Sophia like blades.
“I didn’t! He’s lying!”
Sophia’s voice shot up, sharp and frantic—nothing like the sweet, soft girl she pretended to be.
“You’re the one who wanted money! You’re the one who had it out for Lena! Don’t pin this on me!”
“Dad! Mom! You believe me, don’t you? I didn’t do this!”
Tears streamed down her face as she tried, one last time, to pull Patrick and Eleanor back to her side.
But this time, Patrick’s expression was beyond dark.
He was Boston old money—reputation was everything to him.
And now, in front of the whole school and a College Board investigator, this family scandal had just been dragged into the light. The Walsh name was being ground into the dirt.
Smack.
Patrick’s hand came across Sophia’s face in a backhanded slap.
Harder than the one he’d given me.
Sophia hit the floor, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.
“You little monster!”
Patrick was shaking with rage, his voice unsteady.
“You’re not even grown and you’re already bribing principals to destroy your own family?!”
“You’ve disgraced the Walsh name!”
Sophia clutched her cheek, staring up at him in disbelief:
“Dad… you hit me? You hit me for her?”
“I’m your real daughter! She’s just some adopted—”
“Enough.”
I cut through the circus, my voice flat.
“Now that the truth’s out—can I leave?”
“You Walshes can take your family drama back to your mansion. Don’t do it here.”
I turned to walk out.
“Wait!”
Eleanor lunged forward and grabbed my wrist.
The arrogance was gone from her face. In its place was something painfully awkward—a smile she was forcing out.
“Lena… look, this whole thing… it’s just a big misunderstanding…”
“You didn’t cheat, so you’ve been wronged—terribly…”
“Come home with me. I’ll make Sophia apologize. I’ll buy you new clothes, whatever you want—okay?”
She wanted to sweep it all under the rug—now that I was innocent?
I pulled my hand free and gave her a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.
“Misunderstanding? When you were about to expel me? When he hit me?”
“Mrs. Walsh—I already told you. I’m done with this family.”
“Don’t act familiar. It doesn’t sit right.”
“You—”
Eleanor’s face stiffened. “Lena Walsh, don’t be ungrateful!”
“Without the Walsh family, you won’t even have a place to sleep tonight!”
“Who says she doesn’t have a place?”
A clear voice came from the doorway.
Everyone turned.
Out on the parking lot, a black Tesla Model S had appeared—with an MIT faculty parking sticker.
The door opened, and a man stepped out. Early forties, wavy hair, eyes sharp as a hawk’s.
The moment Harrison and the officials saw his face, their expressions shifted. They hurried toward him.
“Professor—you came all this way yourself?”