“I noticed this bag on orientation day. You’re so vain—buying something this expensive. If I were your parents, I’d be too ashamed to show my face.”

“Jessica, has no one ever told you it’s illegal to go through someone else’s belongings?” I snapped, lunging to grab it back.

She acted like my anger didn’t exist. “Why shouldn’t I call it out? You earned that money the dirty way. Look at me—I survive on the bare minimum, a sandwich and a small side every day, just a few dollars total. That’s what real self-reliance looks like, not sleeping with men for designer brands.”

Her words struck a chord with the crowd.

“Exactly. Head to toe in designer gear—she’s thrown her dignity away.”

“Be like Jessica, simple and honest. She works hard, takes extra shifts if she has to. At least she’s not selling herself.”

The voices around me grew harsher, and my face burned.

The commotion finally drew in our dorm manager and Ms. Thompson, our advisor.

“What’s all this noise? Everyone back to your rooms. Explain what happened, or I’ll write you all up for misconduct.”

I thought justice had arrived at last.

But then Jessica spoke up sweetly:

“Ms. Thompson, Emily spends money on designer brands because she’s being spoiled by an older man. Yesterday a bunch of us saw her step out of a luxury car.”

“That was my dad,” I fired back immediately.

“Your real dad? That man looked polished, successful—no way he’s related to you,” Jessica shot back, her voice rising.

Ms. Thompson’s expression hardened.

“Emily, you may be at an age where you care about fashion, but how could you compromise your morals for money? Do you realize our university is competing for the Best Campus Award this year? You’ve brought shame to us all. I’ll have to report this to the administration and ensure you’re disciplined.”

Jessica raised an eyebrow smugly.

“See? Even Ms. Thompson agrees. Stop denying it. I once knew a girl who dropped out after marrying an old man for nice clothes. I just don’t want you to end up the same way.”

Hearing that, Ms. Thompson softened her tone toward Jessica:

“Exactly, Emily. You should learn from her instead of straying down the wrong path.”

With her words, any lingering doubt disappeared—everyone saw me as the guilty one.

I clenched my fists. “Ms. Thompson, without investigating, you’re branding me a criminal? If you want proof, just have my father come here. But condemning me without asking questions—is that your job?”

“You expect me to investigate further? I’m already being lenient by just reporting you quietly. If you stop now, maybe it’s just one note in your record. But with that attitude? Expulsion might be the only option.”

I glared at her authority.

“Ms. Thompson, what gives you the right to expel me?”

“Because I’m in charge of your class, that’s why. I heard everything outside. Being spoiled might only be immoral, but working as an escort? That’s against the law. Westbridge University will never tolerate a student with such disgraceful character.”

“I worked as an escort? I was kept by a sugar daddy? Do you have proof? If not, I can sue you for defamation.” My tone turned cold as I lowered my head to text.

Jessica smacked my phone away. “What? Messaging your clients? Planning to spin this back on us?”

Ms. Thompson didn’t stop her. Instead, she added,

“You refused to call the police earlier—that’s proof enough. You’re a girl who’s lost her way, and now you want everyone to talk about it openly? Are you shameless or just beyond shame?”

I exploded. “You’re a teacher, and you’re personally insulting me? With ethics like that, I could report you to the Department of Education.”

She sneered. “You break the law yet dare threaten me? Go ahead. Who do you think they’ll believe—a teacher or a spoiled little sugar baby?”

I glanced at my phone Jessica had knocked down. The screen was still lit—recording. Good.

I slipped it into my pocket and stopped arguing. All I had to do was wait for the police.

Then I heard a voice I couldn’t believe—Ryan Johnson, a senior from my department. He looked at me with wounded eyes.

“Emily, I thought you just weren’t interested in dating me. I never imagined it was because you’d rather be with an older man for money. You’ve disappointed me so much.”

The way he looked at me, as if I’d done something filthy, made my stomach churn. I snapped,

“Ryan, I told you a long time ago I wasn’t interested. Now you’re using this as an excuse to humiliate me? You’re pathetic.”

His face twisted with rage.

“You—sleeping with old men—you’re calling me shameless? You’re just a whore. The whole campus knows now. People already streamed your little showdown. Want to see the comments?”

He shoved his phone in my face. On the screen was my terrified expression, overlaid with filthy captions:

“She’s so cheap. If old men can sleep with her, I’ll pay too. How much for a night?”

“College girls these days have no self-respect.”

“Look at her tight clothes—clearly dressing for men’s eyes.”

“Everyone knows college girls charge more.”

“Pathetic. If this school has someone like her, she should’ve been expelled already.”

“Her teacher wanted to handle it quietly, but she still plays the victim? What a slut.”

“Damn, her boobs are huge. No wonder old men like her.”

The comments broke me. I hadn’t realized how far this had spread. My hands shook uncontrollably.

Ryan kept cursing, relentless:

“You turned me down because I’m poor, didn’t you? You’re just a gold digger, a vain bitch. I can’t believe I ever liked someone like you.”