On the other side of the room, Penelope noticed Anastasia’s gaze lingering on Headmaster Jerome and couldn’t help but curl her lips into a subtle, knowing smile.
Anastasia drew a deep breath, her eyes icy and resolute.
—This time, things would be different. She wouldn’t disgrace her mother’s name, nor her own.
“Let’s begin,” she said firmly.
“We’ll start with five pages each. Who wants to go first?” Headmaster Jerome stood on the stage, wasting no time on pleasantries.
“I’ll go,” Penelope offered, her voice gentle and considerate. “That way, Anastasia can have a little more time to review.”
Her words set off a chorus of mocking laughter around them. Someone even praised Penelope for her magnanimity: “That’s just like our Penelope—always so kind. Even after everything Anastasia’s done, she’s still thinking of her!”
“Oh, please,” someone else scoffed. “What good is more time going to do? As if Anastasia could actually memorize anything in the first place…”
Headmaster Jerome, of course, heard it all. She glanced at Anastasia, her expression tightening with annoyance.
If she didn’t have her mother’s talent, she should learn to keep a low profile instead of constantly drawing attention to herself. Did she want everyone to know Cecilia’s daughter was a disappointment?
But in the midst of all the mockery and hostile stares, Anastasia remained composed. Not a single muscle in her brow twitched.
“Penelope, you may begin,” Headmaster Jerome announced.
Penelope smiled politely, stepped forward, and began reciting. Her voice was calm and steady, not a hint of hesitation. Some students followed along on their tablets, checking the text line by line, and were soon whispering in awe, “Penelope really did memorize the whole thing—she’s flawless!”
Others nodded in agreement, convinced she’d falter before the end.
But it didn’t happen. Anastasia kept right on, her pace unwavering, her memory flawless from start to finish. No hesitations, no slips—not even at the end.
“Headmaster, I’m finished,” she said calmly to Jerome.
A cheer erupted from Anastasia’s classmates. “I knew she could do it!” someone shouted, nearly jumping out of their chair. Juliet, watching her cousin’s back, brimmed with pride.
In stark contrast, Shirley and her friends looked as if they’d swallowed something sour.
—Hadn’t they all said Anastasia didn’t have it in her?
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