Chapter 2
The room went completely silent.
Madeline's smile froze on her face like a bad Snapchat filter.
Even the livestream comments stopped for a few seconds.
Then they exploded.
[2.6 million dollars? For real? Is she crazy?]
[LOL. Best joke of the year! A bunch of fakes worth that much?]
[She doesn't really think the cops are that dumb, does she? Filing a false report gets you arrested!]
[Madeline, don't fall for it. She's bluffing. She can't be that rich!]
Madeline clearly thought the same thing.
After a second of shock, she burst out laughing. "2.6 million dollars? Charlotte, are you insane? What, are you secretly some billionaire's daughter?
"The cops are gonna show up and arrest you for wasting their time."
She was completely confident.
In her mind, I was just bluffing, making a last desperate attempt.
Lily backed her up. "Yeah. Madeline, don't worry. We'll both say her stuff was fake. We see what she wears every day. It's obvious."
Emily opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but then looked down.
I didn't respond.
I just scrolled through my contacts and called the one labeled "Mr. Sherman."
He picked up immediately.
"Miss Lane? What a pleasant surprise," came the respectful, steady voice on the other end.
"Mr. Sherman, I'm at school." My voice remained calm, like I was discussing something trivial. "There's been a small incident. The custom pieces you all gave me for my eighteenth birthday, someone damaged them."
The breathing on the other end stopped. "What?"
Mr. Sherman's voice shot up, filled with shock and anger. "Which idiot did this? Are you hurt, Miss Lane?"
"I'm fine," I said flatly. "Send someone over now. Bring a legal team, and the people responsible for authentication and after-sales from Hermès, Loro Piana, and Chanel."
"All of them," I said. "I want the highest level of authentication and the most official reports."
Mr. Sherman understood immediately. "Understood, Miss Lane. Fifteen minutes. We'll be at the school gate."
I hung up and looked up.
Madeline and Lily were staring at me like I was insane.
"Oh my god. You're still going?" Madeline laughed. "Legal team? Brand representatives? Charlotte, be so for real right now.
"Let's see how you explain yourself when the cops get here."
She turned back to her live. "Guys, she's committed to this bit. Let's see how long she keeps it up."
The viewer count had passed fifty thousand.
Everyone was waiting to see me get hauled off in handcuffs.
I didn't respond.
I grabbed a chair that hadn't been destroyed, sat down, and scrolled through my phone.
Like the chaos around me had nothing to do with me.
My complete calm was starting to freak Madeline out.
But she was committed now.
She had to keep going. "Look at her, still acting. She should be an actress.
"Charlotte, I'll make you a deal. Apologize right now, and maybe I'll tell the cops it was just a joke."
I didn't even look up.
Time passed.
About ten minutes later, hurried footsteps sounded outside.
Two uniformed officers appeared at the door, looking serious.
"Who called the police?" one of them asked.
Madeline's eyes lit up like she'd seen her salvation. She rushed over. "Officer, it was her. She called."
She pointed at me dramatically. "She filed a false report. She's claiming I destroyed 2.6 million dollars of her stuff. Arrest her."
The cops looked at me, then at the mess on the floor.
The older one frowned. "Miss, you made the report? 2.6 million in damages?"
I nodded. "Yes."
He looked uncomfortable. "That's a serious claim. You understand filing a false report is a crime, right? You'd need proof."
Madeline snorted. "Proof? What proof could she possibly have? Receipts? Her fake stuff doesn't even have boxes."
Right then, the dorm door opened again.
An intense presence flooded in.
Leading the way was a middle-aged man in a black Armani suit, hair perfectly styled.
Behind him came an entire team of similarly sharp-dressed men and women, each carrying briefcases.
They looked less like they were here for a dispute and more like they were here to acquire a company.
The man's sharp gaze swept the room and landed on me.
He walked over quickly, bowed slightly, his posture completely deferential. "Miss Lane, I'm Richard Terry, head of the legal department. Mr. Sherman sent me."
He paused, looking at the debris on the floor, anger flashing in his eyes. "We're late. You must have been frightened."
Madeline's mouth dropped open.
In the livestream, the fifty thousand viewers went silent too.