“And this one was supposed to be my training outfit today. Tell me, can this still be worn?”
Their faces turned pale. The dress was not only ugly, but cut so short it exposed nearly everything. One step on stage, and the humiliation would be complete.
After seeing the ruined clothes, neither of them spoke up for Vanessa anymore.
I looked at them coldly.
“She wasn’t helping me. She was setting me up to be humiliated.”
At that moment, Vanessa entered, looking pitiful.
When she saw her handiwork spread out on my desk, she froze.
I deliberately touched the torn fabric.
“Vanessa, what do you have to say for yourself?”
She broke down in tears.
“I don’t know—I really don’t know. I didn’t do this!”
“If it wasn’t you, did the clothes rip themselves? Or maybe one of the other roommates did it?”
Vanessa stammered, unable to reply.
“Emily, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please forgive me.”
“I was just jealous. We’re the same age, but you’re better than me at everything—talent, looks, background. Everyone likes you. I felt insecure and did something terrible.”
She suddenly fell to her knees.