After I left, the twin Alphas went crazy novel Chapter 117

I hesitated and finally decided to pretend I hadn't seen the message.

I replied, [I haven't had any free time lately, I've been busy doing paperwork for school award applications after school].

This is not a lie. I have been busy for over a month working on this award, which has a very important impact on my future.

Later that afternoon, as the final bell rang, Linda sauntered into school, making her entrance as though she were walking onto a stage.

Her outfit was more suited for a red carpet than a classroom, her makeup dramatic, with every hair perfectly styled.

A group of students quickly gathered around her, their questions filled with awe and envy about her recent “big break.”

I rolled my eyes, gathering my things, hoping to slip out unnoticed. But Linda had other plans.

As if sensing my presence, she turned her gaze towards me, a self-satisfied smile stretching across her face.

She approached, her eyes gleaming with a newfound arrogance.

“Sophia,” she called out, her voice sickeningly sweet. “I wanted to thank you.”

I didn’t respond, simply staring at her, wondering what angle she was working this time. She took that as her cue to continue.

“Back at the campus party, when you… sabotaged my performance?” She made a sad face, as if recalling a tragic memory.

“Well, it ended up being a blessing in disguise! I was noticed by a theater director, and now, several more have reached out to me! Isn’t it funny how life works?” Her smile grew as she added,

“When I make it big, I won’t forget the ‘care’ you showed me, Sophia.”

As she spoke, Linda leaned forward, her arms outstretched, intending to embrace me in some faux show of sisterhood.

But I was done with her charade. With a sharp, icy stare, I stepped back, my voice calm and cold as I said, “Get out of the way.”

The students around us watched, eyes wide with anticipation, like they were witnessing the beginning of some epic showdown.

Linda’s face flickered with surprise, and for just a moment, I was transported back to the memory of a similar confrontation.

In my past life, Linda had pulled the same stunt.

She had pretended to make amends, stepping forward with her arms open, and I, foolish and trusting, had reached out to hug her.

Just as our fingers brushed, her face had twisted with a malicious smile, and she whispered, “Sophia, you’re finished.”

Then, with an exaggerated tumble, Linda had thrown herself down the stairs, landing in a twisted heap at the bottom.

I still remembered the gasps, the murmurs, the way everyone had turned on me in an instant.

The lies she spun, the sympathy she garnered — it was all enough to ruin me, to drive me out of school.

But this time, I was ready.