They Framed Me as a Fraud, So I Exposed Them Live - Chapter 6: Chapter 6
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Suddenly, a sharp voice cut through the chaos. "Stop it!"
It was the receptionist, returning just in time. My mother froze at her outburst, and I seized the moment to wrench myself free, quickly explaining the situation again.
The receptionist's eyes widened in disbelief when she heard my parents had demanded I kneel and beg for forgiveness. She didn't hold back.
"Being a boss doesn't make you superior to anyone! Job seekers have rights too—they can question and challenge their employers when they're wrong. We're all equals here!"
She leveled a stern look at my parents. "You put blind faith in so-called 'authority,' but why can't you trust your own child for once?"
This time, my parents had no comeback.
To them, embassy officials were high-status figures—their word was law. They nodded hesitantly, still struggling to process everything.
"The people here… they must outrank that Mrs. Jones, right?" my father murmured, hope creeping into his voice. "If they say our daughter isn't wrong… then she really isn't?"
After repeated confirmations from the embassy staff, my father finally broke down, tears streaming like a storm.
"We're so sorry, Celine! We were just terrified for you—afraid your future was ruined. We'd have given our lives to make that boss forgive you!"
My mother trembled with rage, her lips quivering. "Did I hurt you, baby? How could that woman be so cruel, lying through her teeth and driving us to this?"
"It's our fault too," my father choked out. "We were fools—played like pawns!"
The two of them started slapping themselves in remorse, their faces reddening, their mouths bleeding. I lunged forward to stop them. I wasn't angry at them—the real villain was Wendy Jones, who'd manipulated and wounded them so deeply.
Now that the ambassador was involved, the embassy took swift action, reaching out to It's You to arrange a live broadcast. They would go on first to clear my name.
With official authority backing me, they declared—on air—that my university was not only legitimate but among France's most prestigious, globally recognized institutions.
For the sake of their country's reputation, this had to be broadcast far and wide.
And the show's producers? They were thrilled.
"We've reviewed recent episodes and would love to use this platform to educate the public about France's top-tier universities," they announced, oblivious to the firestorm coming their way. "It's our duty to combat academic fraud and protect people from deception!"
They were practically salivating at the thought of embassy officials appearing on their show—ratings would skyrocket. Promises of heavy promotion rolled off their tongues.
I smirked. Go ahead. The bigger the hype, the harder the fall.
On broadcast day, I pulled on a hoodie, keeping my face hidden as I followed the embassy staff into the studio. If we were setting the record straight, I'd be there in person—facing those twelve presidents again, turning up the heat. The more controversy, the wider the truth would spread.
Let's see if Wendy's bought-off media outlets would dare suppress this. Would they still call my university a sham? Would they defy an entire nation?
The producers fawned over the suited embassy officials but scowled when they noticed me.
"Who's this?" one snapped. "No unauthorized personnel in the studio—"
Taking in my scruffy appearance, they assumed I was some lowly assistant.
Little did they know—their reckoning had arrived.
It was the receptionist, returning just in time. My mother froze at her outburst, and I seized the moment to wrench myself free, quickly explaining the situation again.
The receptionist's eyes widened in disbelief when she heard my parents had demanded I kneel and beg for forgiveness. She didn't hold back.
"Being a boss doesn't make you superior to anyone! Job seekers have rights too—they can question and challenge their employers when they're wrong. We're all equals here!"
She leveled a stern look at my parents. "You put blind faith in so-called 'authority,' but why can't you trust your own child for once?"
This time, my parents had no comeback.
To them, embassy officials were high-status figures—their word was law. They nodded hesitantly, still struggling to process everything.
"The people here… they must outrank that Mrs. Jones, right?" my father murmured, hope creeping into his voice. "If they say our daughter isn't wrong… then she really isn't?"
After repeated confirmations from the embassy staff, my father finally broke down, tears streaming like a storm.
"We're so sorry, Celine! We were just terrified for you—afraid your future was ruined. We'd have given our lives to make that boss forgive you!"
My mother trembled with rage, her lips quivering. "Did I hurt you, baby? How could that woman be so cruel, lying through her teeth and driving us to this?"
"It's our fault too," my father choked out. "We were fools—played like pawns!"
The two of them started slapping themselves in remorse, their faces reddening, their mouths bleeding. I lunged forward to stop them. I wasn't angry at them—the real villain was Wendy Jones, who'd manipulated and wounded them so deeply.
Now that the ambassador was involved, the embassy took swift action, reaching out to It's You to arrange a live broadcast. They would go on first to clear my name.
With official authority backing me, they declared—on air—that my university was not only legitimate but among France's most prestigious, globally recognized institutions.
For the sake of their country's reputation, this had to be broadcast far and wide.
And the show's producers? They were thrilled.
"We've reviewed recent episodes and would love to use this platform to educate the public about France's top-tier universities," they announced, oblivious to the firestorm coming their way. "It's our duty to combat academic fraud and protect people from deception!"
They were practically salivating at the thought of embassy officials appearing on their show—ratings would skyrocket. Promises of heavy promotion rolled off their tongues.
I smirked. Go ahead. The bigger the hype, the harder the fall.
On broadcast day, I pulled on a hoodie, keeping my face hidden as I followed the embassy staff into the studio. If we were setting the record straight, I'd be there in person—facing those twelve presidents again, turning up the heat. The more controversy, the wider the truth would spread.
Let's see if Wendy's bought-off media outlets would dare suppress this. Would they still call my university a sham? Would they defy an entire nation?
The producers fawned over the suited embassy officials but scowled when they noticed me.
"Who's this?" one snapped. "No unauthorized personnel in the studio—"
Taking in my scruffy appearance, they assumed I was some lowly assistant.
Little did they know—their reckoning had arrived.
End of They Framed Me as a Fraud, So I Exposed Them Live Chapter 6. Continue reading Chapter 7 or return to They Framed Me as a Fraud, So I Exposed Them Live book page.