The prettiest girl in our class, Vanessa Harper, sent a letter of complaint to the principal’s office, accusing me of embezzling class funds. The school immediately dispatched an inspection team and demanded that I hand over the funds. Even the counselor, Caroline Blake, tried to convince me to confess for a lighter sentence. I nodded and agreed to hold a class meeting to admit my actions. As I looked at Vanessa standing in the front of the room, I grabbed the microphone and spoke firmly. “You say I embezzled funds? Where’s the evidence?” I held a USB drive filled with payment screenshots, watching as a look of panic flashed across Vanessa’s face. Ever since I saw my father, who worked as an accountant, take the fall for his boss, I had understood one thing. When money was involved, you must keep records. It was this very lesson my father learned the hard way when he ended up in prison. From then on, for every single penny that passed through my hands, I made sure to keep meticulous records. My USB drive was full of dense Excel files, down to the exact minute and second. I could say that even a dog walking out of my USB drive would have its exact number of hairs accounted for. The reason for this meticulousness? I didn’t want to meet the same fate as my father. Little did I know that this caution would come in handy at this very moment. When the counselor called me into her office, I was still in the dorm room eating spicy snacks. Since I was the class president, going into her office was nothing new for me. So, I assumed it was just a routine matter. But when I entered, I found everyone with strange expressions on their faces. I thought something serious must have happened. In the past, whenever a student jumped from a building or attempted suicide, the teachers in the office looked about the same way. I had just walked up to the counselor’s desk when she slammed several books down with a loud thud. “Bertha, why did you embezzle the class funds?!”
Usually, I managed the class expenses. As a computer science major, sometimes the class would win prize money from competitions, and I would keep that as well. The goal was to ensure the class had enough funds for future events. Over time, the total accumulated amount reached tens of thousands of dollars. Caroline turned toward me, her face showing blatant disappointment. “Your classmates trusted you so much, and yet you did something so heartless. “Now, you’re going with me to the school’s inspection team to confess your wrongdoings.” Without waiting for my reaction, Caroline physically pushed me into the meeting room, the same one used for meeting parents. Just as the door was closing, the class teacher took a seat in the corner of the room. I looked up and saw the leaders sitting at the table. As I expected, they began by accusing me of embezzling public funds and lacking class pride and public morals. Then they lectured me about being honest and trustworthy. One of the leaders on the right pulled out a document and handed it to me, asking me to sign an apology letter. I looked around the room, finally breaking my silence. “I’m willing to confess, but it must be in the form of a class meeting.”
The school’s efficiency was faster than I had expected. In less than half an hour, they had quickly gathered all the students from my class. I stood at the podium, looking around. The students below were whispering among themselves. “Why is Bertha standing up there? Why is there a class meeting today? This is so annoying. I haven’t finished watching my TV show yet.” “Didn’t you hear? I heard Bertha embezzled the class funds and spent it all on herself!” “What! Embezzling is terrible! I haven’t stolen anything, so why should she get to?” “Being class president is the best. You can spend the class’ money however you want.” “I told you not to elect Bertha as class president. She has a scheming look. If it were me, I’d have picked Vanessa. She definitely wouldn’t embezzle!” When I saw Vanessa sitting eagerly in her chair, I finally figured out who had reported me. It could only be her. She had run against me for class president and lost with only half the votes I received. Since then, she had been making trouble for me. For example, at class meals, she would deliberately sit at the same table as me, then enthusiastically mingle with the other students, either serving food or toasting, all while bossing around. Or in class, she would always sit right in front of me, as close to the teacher as possible, trying to show off her studious nature while overshadowing me. The most memorable instance was during gym class when she would choose a spot at a comfortable distance from me, chatting with the boys around her. Thanks to her looks, the boys quickly gathered around her. Vanessa seemed like a victorious peacock, strutting past me proudly. My roommate saw this and whispered to me, “Why does she look like a turkey, sticking out her butt all high and mighty?” While I understood Vanessa’s almost twisted sense of victory, that didn’t mean I had to accept it. I tapped the microphone to check the sound. The class quickly fell silent, clearly curious about what I would say. “Today, one of my classmates reported me for embezzling public funds. “Normally, I would need to prove my innocence. “But according to Article 67 of the Civil Procedure Law, the person making a claim must provide evidence. That means whoever makes the claim must prove it. “You say I embezzled, but where’s the evidence? Vanessa?” A wave of murmurs spread throughout the class. I watched Vanessa’s face flash with a hint of panic, and I couldn’t help but sneer.
Vanessa clearly hadn’t expected me to call her out in front of the entire class. After receiving curious looks from the surrounding students, she stood up and met my gaze. After a brief moment of fluster, Vanessa quickly regained her composure. She tilted her chin, acting unfazed. “What evidence? All the students here are my witnesses. Don’t think you can fool us by quoting the law. “Bertha, the money is in your hands. You spend it however you want. Over the past two years, our class has won plenty of competition prizes, but I’ve never seen where that money went. “You say you didn’t steal, but who’s going to believe that?” Her tone became more and more certain as if she had personally witnessed me spending the class funds. Other students, who didn’t know the full story, were taken aback by what she said. Soon, whispers filled the room. “Don’t you think Vanessa might be right? Our class has a lot of money. Who knows where it all went?” “Yeah, the whereabouts of the money haven’t been revealed in two years. I didn’t really pay attention. I didn’t expect Bertha, of all people, to steal class funds.” “It’s not necessarily true, though. Vanessa is just speculating. No one knows if the money was actually spent like that.” If this were anyone else in this situation, they might be afraid of being misunderstood by their classmates. But not me. I scanned the room, making eye contact with every student below me. Finally, my eyes landed on Vanessa. “Vanessa, I said ‘show me the evidence,’ not tell me your opinions. “You’re not giving an award speech. You need to provide real evidence of my embezzlement. Understand? “If you didn’t hear me clearly, I don’t mind repeating it again.” Vanessa’s beautiful face cracked with frustration, and she nearly lost her composure. She raised her voice instinctively. “If you didn’t steal the class funds, then where did you get the money to buy designer shoes and bags?” “We’re all students, so we can’t possibly afford that with our living allowance.” Vanessa said this with a smug look on her face, completely oblivious to the awkward expressions of some of the students around her, who found her comment strange. Though everyone’s living allowances were about the same, not everyone had the same family background. Vanessa couldn’t blame the others for living off their parents just because she couldn’t do the same. As for me, I was waiting for exactly this moment. I lowered my head, leaning toward the microphone. “Vanessa, did you actually see me use the class funds to buy designer bags and shoes?” Her question caught Vanessa off guard, but she refused to let go of the opportunity to put me down. She responded confidently, “I didn’t see it, but that money definitely wasn’t yours.” At that moment, I almost burst out laughing at Vanessa’s stupidity. If it weren’t for being on stage, I would’ve applauded her. There was no evidence, just wild assumptions. When questioned, she had no idea about anything, but she reported me without hesitation. Such a beautiful face, yet such a foolish mind. I held back my laughter and quickly turned on the computer. Then, I pulled a USB drive from my pocket and plugged it into the computer. Soon, a bunch of folders appeared on the screen. The students below gasped in surprise. “What the hell? What am I seeing? There are hundreds of Excel files! Even a pro wouldn’t produce this many!” “Bertha always seemed quiet. Who could have imagined that she’s secretly a workaholic?” “Aren’t you curious what’s in there? I’m dying to know.” I bypassed the Excel files and opened a folder labeled “Video Files,” which contained the footage from the part-time jobs I had done. When I worked part-time, I was afraid the boss might exploit me and not pay, so I always filmed videos as proof. “Today is September 8, 2023. I’m at Star Zoo cleaning up parrot poop. The parrot is small, but it poops a lot.” “Today is November 30, 2023. I’m at New Century Amusement Park as a mascot, preparing to hug any handsome guy I see.” “Today is December 16, 2023. I’m in Movie Town playing a side role. Just stuck on a fake beard, ready to harass tourists.” And so on. After playing several videos, I opened up the screenshots of the payments I received for those jobs, including the name of the boss, hours worked, and other details. I ignored the class’ stunned silence and directly questioned Vanessa. “You want to know where my money came from? Well, time to take a good look.”
As soon as I finished speaking, the entire class erupted into laughter. “Oh my God, Bertha looks all quiet and reserved, but she’s really out here living it up with side gigs!” “Who even keeps such a meticulous record of their transactions in Excel?!” “Did Bertha predict that someone would try to slander her? This looks like it was planned.” “Well, Vanessa definitely seems like she’s just making stuff up. Bertha doesn’t look guilty at all.” The room buzzed with excitement as everyone discussed my side jobs. Meanwhile, Vanessa stood up, visibly out of place. Seeing all the attention shift toward me, Vanessa’s face went from pale to a shade of deep red. She clearly hadn’t anticipated that I would have taken on such a variety of side jobs during my free time, nor that I would have kept detailed records, even taking videos of my work and screenshots of every payment. She quickly regained her composure and was about to speak up, but I didn’t give her the chance. “Vanessa, you’re claiming I used class funds to buy luxury shoes and bags,” I continued, “But the truth is, I earned the money myself.” I paused, giving her a pointed look. “Even if I didn’t have side jobs, my family could support me. Does buying expensive items mean I must have stolen or misused funds?” The students who had previously looked uneasy at Vanessa’s remarks suddenly started clapping. “Exactly! Just because someone doesn’t have money doesn’t mean they should assume others are stealing! “What a loser. Always thinking that the others are as filthy as her.” My roommate was among the clappers. I’ve introduced her to several part-time jobs, and she wasn’t going to stay silent now that Vanessa had slandered me. Afterward, she gave me a wink of encouragement. Vanessa, unable to handle the backlash, started to lose her cool. Typically, she liked to maintain a soft, agreeable image in front of the class. She made sure to be overly friendly, especially during events, so that she could earn a reputation as being approachable. This had led her to believe that she was the center of attention. Now, with her true nature exposed in front of everyone, she couldn’t contain her anger any longer. “Stop making wild accusations!” she yelled. “You have no idea what kind of person I am! Do you think I’m just going to let you slander me like this? “Even if Bertha did work to earn money for luxury goods, that doesn’t prove she didn’t use class funds. The money’s all in her hands, and she can say whatever she wants. “Do you even know where our money is?” Her voice, raised in frustration, echoed throughout the room. The students winced, clearly disturbed by her outburst. After a moment of silence, they started exchanging looks. Some seemed to think Vanessa had a point because the class funds had never been accounted for. Others still felt something didn’t add up and wanted more clarity. But the majority seemed to be waiting for me to explain. After all, Caroline was present, along with a few department leaders. This class meeting had a formal tone, and the stakes were higher than usual. Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, Caroline stepped in. It seemed that the evidence I’d presented had swayed the room in my favor, as Caroline’s tone was more measured now. “Bertha, as a class officer, you set an example for everyone. Now that a classmate has raised doubts, it’s your responsibility to present evidence for everyone to see. “Whether or not there has been any misappropriation of funds, justice will prevail. I’ll never wrong any innocent student.” Caroline then turned to Vanessa. “Vanessa, calm down. If Bertha really misused class funds, I will not condone it. We will take appropriate action, as we cannot tolerate any improper behavior in this class.”
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