The uproar quickly caught the attention of the principal, who was clearly suppressing her anger, “Patricia, what happened? What promises did you and I make?”
I smiled wryly, “I just disagreed with her withdrawing her child and I got posted online.”
Upon hearing this, the principal gritted her teeth in anger, “Just having a child, does that warrant withdrawal? Michele took your efforts for granted...”
Afraid she would go on and on, I quickly interrupted, “Alright, Ma’am, don’t worry, I’ll handle this. I’ll leave the public relations to the PR team.”
The principal agreed, “Okay, just let me know if you need anything. The university gets your back.”
Those warm words hit me like a ton of bricks, unexpectedly bringing tears to my eyes. The recent events had brought me back to my dark childhood.
After organizing all the materials, I opened the backend and approved Michele’s withdrawal application. No matter how much I cherished her talent, how disappointed I was, or how compassionate I was, at this moment, I couldn’t find a reason to forgive her.
As soon as I approved, a screenshot of Michele appeared in the comments section.
“Thank you everyone for your support! The teacher has approved it. I’m sorry for wasting public resources.”
I replied, “Don’t rush, you’ve finished speaking, I haven’t even started yet.”
I posted all the evidence of helping her over the years in the comments section. Once posted, it immediately caused a sensation.
[If my teacher could give me such good resources, I'd do anything, even be their slave.]
[So this is the real scams.]
The university also issued a statement saying that I paid for all of Michele's expenses during her time at the university and there was no issue of professional ethics. This further enraged netizens.
[The blogger is insane! The teacher spent money and effort to send her to university and she just wants to quit! What a waste of such valuable resources!]
[More than that, she posted the teacher's name online if she didn't agree to her withdrawal.]
Seeing the backlash, Michele instinctively deleted my comment. This further solidified her accusation of repaying kindness with enmity. I didn’t need to worry about the rest; someone would find justice for me.
Just then, the doorbell rang and a clear voice came from outside, "Miss Patricia, it's me."
It was my neighbor, Charles Dickens.