The Double ( or More ?) Life of The Fake Heiress

Chapter 527

Mirabella had just capped her pen when the proctor’s cough echoed from above her head. She glanced us to find him pacing slowly away, hands clasped behind his back, his voice serious and firm as he announced, “One hour left, folks. If you haven’t finished, better hustle. If you’re done, double check your

work.”

The proctor was none other than the head of the math department. He remembered Mirabella from her stunning victory at the last international competition and was curious to see how she would handle the math in this current league contest. Would she surpass all expectations again, as she had last time?

So, as soon as the second round of exams began, he regularly descended from his podium, strolling nonchalantly past Mirabella’s desk, impressed and somewhat alarmed by her rapid progress. His reminders were meant to spur carefulness in her, but they sent a wave of panic through the rest of the students. They were only halfway through their exams and couldn’t believe someone had already finished Mirabella knew the score. She didn’t hand in her paper early to avoid causing a stir. Instead, she wanted until the last minute to leave the exam room.

After the second round of the contest, the gloom on the students‘ faces was even thicker than after the first. Eighty percent hadn’t finished their work.

Mirabella waited for Jenna under a banyan tree by the schoolyard, dressed in a black hoodie paired with ripped jeans and draped in a khaki coat that elongated her frame. Her hands were stuffed casually in her pockets, her head bowed, toe tapping on the ground–a picture of effortless nonchalance.

as composed as ever. “Waiting

affirmation, then took the initiative to ask, “Howd the test

do as well as I hoped,” Vincent replied slowly. His words suggested disappointment, but his demeanor

time, the questions were off the

cast a sidelong glance at her, not taking her words as consolation. “And you? How do you

shrugged nonchalantly, “I’d only bring you down if

sank. Thanks,

out,” Vincent said,

her pocket and gave him a

arrived, her face the epitome of post–examn blues. With a chuckle, Mirabella playfully

you know. Four long problems, and I flat out didn’t solve two. The other two?