The girl with the phone turned it toward me, playing to her audience. "Family, look at this! This is Ms. Matthews, supposed to be a role model! She used her charity program to pimp for her own husband! Georgia is so pitiful—she studied her way out of the countryside only to be pushed from the frying pan into the fire!"
Comments scrolled across the screen in a frenzy:
*"Is this real? That teacher looks so quiet, who knew she was a monster?"*
*"The girl looks barely eighteen. Her whole life is over!"*
A crowd of students had gathered at the door, their whispers rising into a low roar. Phones appeared. More cameras. More witnesses.
I stood up, walked to the water cooler, and poured myself a cup. The water was lukewarm. I took a slow, deliberate sip.
"Are you finished?"
Alex's face reddened. "What kind of attitude is that? That's your husband's seed in her belly!"
"Impossible." The paper cup hit the trash bin with a dull thud. "The child she's carrying is absolutely not my husband's."
Georgia's tears spilled instantly, running mascara tracks down her cheeks. "Ms. Matthews, I know it's hard to accept, but it's the truth! That night… Mr. Sawyer got me drunk. When I woke up…" Her breath hitched. "He said he truly liked me…"
"Oh?" I arched a brow. "Dominic Sawyer told you personally that he likes you?"
She nodded vigorously, pulling a stack of photos from her bag and fanning them across my desk. "Here is the evidence. If I'm lying, may heaven strike me down!"
I picked up the top photo.
The angles were calculated—deliberately tricky. But Dominic's profile was unmistakable. Georgia pressed against his side. The timestamp on the hotel surveillance screenshot was clear: one night, three months ago.
"The photos are real," I admitted.
Alex's grin split wide. "See? I told you—"
"But the child isn't my husband's." My voice dropped to ice. "Georgia, take your people and leave. I can treat today's scene as if it never happened. But if you continue to cause trouble, I will call the police."
The livestreamer's shriek cut through the room. "We're the ones who should call the police! Ms. Matthews, your husband forced himself on a college student! You're an accomplice!"
The chat exploded:
*"Is this teacher crazy? The evidence is right there!"*
*"Where is the administration? Why are they keeping this trash around?"*
*"Georgia, don't be afraid! The internet has your back!"*