Chapter 132

A group of middle-aged women clustered around the bulletin board at the school entrance, whispering behind cupped hands.

"Look, it's that Langley girl again," a plump woman sneered, jabbing a finger at the display case. "Every faculty meeting, they bring her up—state valedictorian, Harvard prodigy."

"Exactly," a short-haired woman chimed in with a mocking lilt. "And now? Rumor has it she's some tycoon's mistress in the city!"

Evelyn Langley froze mid-step as the words hit her like a slap.

Her fingers tightened around her umbrella handle, knuckles bleaching white.

Academic excellence had always been her father's pride. At every parent-teacher conference, he'd stand tall at the podium, beaming as he shared parenting insights.

Now these vultures were soiling that pride with venomous lies.

She ducked behind the bulletin board, stomach churning at the thought of her father hearing such filth.

......

"Professor Langley, here are the practice exam answer keys." The department head handed over a folder. "Your daughter visiting recently?"

William Langley adjusted his glasses. "Yes, just arrived yesterday."

"How lovely." The man hesitated. "Though... perhaps ignore any idle chatter you hear."

William offered a thin smile and said nothing.

Outside the office, he exhaled heavily.

Near the gates, a familiar silhouette made his shoulders relax.

"Evelyn?"

"Dad." She jogged over, cheeks pink. "I was just passing by."

William eyed the gathering storm clouds. "Rain's coming. Hop on—I'll ride you home."

The bicycle creaked beneath them.

Evelyn wrapped her arms around her father's waist, breathing in the familiar chalk-dust scent of his sweater.

"Dad, I'm sorry..."

"Silly girl. For what?"

"For not visiting sooner."

Tires splashed through puddles, scattering diamond droplets.

"Having you home is enough." His voice blended with the patter of rain. "Your photo's still in the display case, you know."

"Really?"

"Of course! Remember your first Physics Olympiad? When I asked if you were nervous, what did you say?"

She pressed her cheek against his back. "I forget."

"'Zero apprehension,'" William boomed with laughter. "Your homeroom teacher nearly had a stroke!"

The drizzle sharpened into stinging pellets.

By homecoming, William's shirt clung to his skin.

As Evelyn reached for a towel, a shrill voice sliced through the courtyard.

"William! Is that really your Evelyn? The one they say is kept by some city millionaire?"

The towel crumpled in Evelyn's grip.

She strode outside, flashing their nosy neighbor a saccharine smile.

"Aunt Brenda," she chirped, voice dripping honey, "did you gargle sewage this morning?"