That night, when I got back to my dorm, the class group chat was blowing up with messages.

Sharon had sent a long rant, every line dripping with grievance.

"I really don't know how that note ended up in my pocket. As you all know, there's only one guaranteed admission spot, and Cassandra's always done well academically. I've always looked up to her. But today…

"I only meant to help her pick up her pen. I never expected things to turn out like this.

"I don't care that I missed the exam. As long as Cassandra can secure the spot, I'll be at peace. I just hope no one misunderstands me. I really didn't cheat."

The replies below were a mix of sympathy and outrage.

"Don't cry, Sharon. We get it! It's obvious someone's jealous of you and trying to screw you over!"

"It's scary when you think about it. Cassandra seems so quiet normally. Who would have thought that she'd be so evil!"

"She'd frame her own roommate just for the guaranteed spot? Her grades might be good, but her character is trash!"

"Hey, Cassandra, explain yourself! Don't play dead!"

As I watched the messages pop up nonstop, I turned off my phone expressionlessly.

Trying to explain myself to a bunch of idiots who had been blinded by that fake act would only be a waste of time.

If Sharon wanted to play games, then fine. I could just play along.

The next morning, as soon as I stepped into the classroom, I immediately sensed the tension.

The normally noisy classroom went quiet for a few seconds before hushed whispers could be heard. Everyone looked at me with contempt, like they wanted nothing to do with me.

Sharon sat in the front row, her eyes red and puffy, obviously from crying all night.

When she saw me, she shrank back, which immediately made a few guys glare at me.

The harshest look came from Travis Navarro, the school sports representative.

He was Sharon's number-one fanboy, always using his size to back her up and intimidate others.

Travis remarked sarcastically, "Framing others and still showing up to class? Some people really have no shame."

I ignored him and headed straight for my seat.

Just as I was about to sit down, a few lines of comments floated past. "Travis dumped half a bottle of super glue on Cassandra's chair!"

"That's hilarious! Well done! Give that villain a taste of her own medicine!"

"That's industrial-strength glue. Once she sits down, her pants will be ruined. She won't even be able to rip them off. Let's see if she still dares show her face then!"

I paused, glancing at my chair. Sure enough, the surface glistened slightly under the light.

Travis and a few guys were making faces at me, looking like they were waiting for a spectacle. Sharon turned her head too, pretending to read while sneaking glances my way.

Acting like I didn't notice a thing, I calmly sat down.

"She sat down! It's going to get interesting!"

Travis pumped his fist, his face all twitchy with excitement.

But even after a few seconds, I was still sitting there composedly. I even adjusted my posture and pulled out my textbook, like there wasn't anything wrong.

"Wait, what?"

Travis froze, muttering, "Did the glue fail?"

He instinctively reached into his pocket to check if the bottle was right.

The moment his hand went in, a shrill, agonized scream cut through the classroom, making everyone jump.

Travis shot up from his seat. And as if something had grabbed him, his body twisted wildly as he clawed at his pants, trying to rip them off.

"It burns! Oh my god! Help me! My leg!" he screamed while clawing at his upper thigh frantically.

As it turned out, he'd been too careless after pouring the glue. He hadn't tightened the cap before shoving the bottle into his pocket.

And thanks to my constitution that rebounded my misfortune, the glue bottle in his pocket burst.

Half a bottle of industrial-strength glue spilled all over the inside of his thigh and his private parts, instantly fusing fabric and skin.

The agony from the chemical burn was more than most people could take.

The class rep freaked out and shouted frantically, "Call an ambulance! Somebody call an ambulance!"

Travis was writhing on the floor from the pain. His pants were completely ruined, and every movement tore at his skin, causing blood to ooze everywhere.

The crowd was left pale-faced, stunned by the sudden chaos. I was the only one quietly turning a page in my book, watching the scene unfold with an expressionless face.

Comments flooded in again.

"How did this happen? Wasn't the glue supposed to be on Cassandra's chair?"

"She's downright scary! First the note, now the glue?"

"She can't actually do witchcraft, can she?"

Sharon went deathly pale as she watched Travis screaming on the floor, then she turned to me in horror. I lifted my head, locking eyes with her.

I said with a smile, "Sharon, looks like your friend's in pain. Aren't you going to check on him?"

Sharon shuddered. My smile scared her so much that she stepped back, bumping into the corner of a desk in the process.

She whipped her head toward me, eyes wide with terror. "Cassandra, was it you? You did this, didn't you?"

In my seat, I shrugged innocently. "You need proof to accuse others, Sharon. Everyone has been watching the whole time, and there's at least ten feet between him and me.

"How could I have done anything? Do you think I can pour glue from across the room?"

Sharon was left speechless.

Indeed, everyone had been watching, and I hadn't even touched Travis. Still, the bizarre coincidence was enough to send chills down her spine.

That afternoon, Travis was rushed to the hospital for debridement surgery. Apparently, a huge patch of skin had to be removed, so he basically had to say goodbye to school for the semester.

Meanwhile, on the campus forum, the rumors about me went from "scheming woman" to "witch".

The posts claimed that I could cast curses, and whoever messed with me would suffer. Reading all the ridiculous discussions, I simply laughed.

Witchcraft? No, this was just karma.

After the Travis incident, no one in class dared to openly mess with me again. Still, I could tell that the exclusion and isolation were becoming increasingly apparent.

Sharon had also wised up, ditching the direct approach for the victim act.

She posted all sorts of photos of herself studying with captions like, "Even though I've suffered a lot, I'll never give up on my dreams!"

"Even if I only have a tiny chance, I'll still give it my all!"

As I read those posts, I couldn't help but think that the harder she tried, the sadder she looked.

But I knew why she was pushing herself. The final decision for the guaranteed admission spot would be determined after a public evaluation three days from now.

That was her last chance. There was only one guaranteed admission spot for our department this year.

I had it in the bag until Sharon's uncle stepped in, and despite my name being cleared for that cheating incident, the administration still used it as an excuse to put me on review.

As such, the department decided that Sharon and I would compete and be evaluated in front of everyone. Whoever did better would get the spot.

The day before our evaluation, Sharon approached the guy in charge of the AV room, another one of her admirers, named Scott Buck.

They huddled in a corner, whispering for a long time before Sharon handed him a USB drive.

At that moment, the comments went wild. "Here it comes! Sharon gave Scott a virus. Once Cassandra plugs in her USB, her laptop will run automatically.

"This won't just crash her computer. The virus will cause indecent videos to pop up! Haha, it'll ruin that nerd's reputation!"

As I read the wicked plan, I felt nothing.

She wanted to tamper with my presentation? Fine.

Time would tell who would be the ruined one in the end.

On the day of the presentation, the hall was packed.

Apart from the department heads and school administrators, tons of students had come to watch the spectacle.

Everyone was eager to find out whether the so-called top student who knew witchcraft or the campus belle would come out on top. Sharon went before me.

Her presentation was flashy and over-the-top, and her speech was full of emotion. She talked about how much she loved volunteering and how she united her classmates, while her academic achievements barely got a mention.

Yet, when she finished, the applause she got from the audience was thunderous. Daniel was especially thrilled, grinning from ear to ear on the panel of judges.

As Sharon passed by me on her way off the stage, she leaned in close and whispered, "Cassandra, today, I will ruin your reputation so badly that you'll never be able to recover."

Without even glancing her way, I uttered, "Is that so? Then I guess we shall see."

"Next, please welcome Cassandra Giles."

After the announcement, I calmly walked onto the stage, my USB drive in hand. The whispers from the audience instantly grew louder.

"Is that her? The one who does witchcraft?"

"I heard Travis ended up in the hospital because of her. How creepy."

"Hush, stop talking. She might curse you."

Ignoring the voices, I walked over to the AV equipment. Sharon sat in the audience, her eyes gleaming with triumph.

Scott, over by the equipment, gave me a sly, sinister grin. I plugged in my USB drive.

"Good afternoon, teachers and fellow students. I'm Cassandra Giles."

I opened a folder and clicked on the file labeled "Academic Achievements Presentation".

The moment the screen lit up, the entire auditorium went silent.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sharon covering her mouth, looking shocked at the screen, but beneath that shock was clearly wicked delight.

My heart skipped a beat. A wave of panic I had never felt before hit me. I whipped my head toward the big screen.

What appeared wasn't my academic achievements at all. It was a series of scandalous, indecent photos. And the person in those photos had the exact same face as me.