The True Mistress Has A Thousand Hidden Identities

Mr. Garfield put the phone and Claire’s painting on the table. “Mr. Jones, it doesn’t matter if you believe it or not. It’s a fact.”

Several teachers gathered around and nodded.

“Can’t it be a coincidence?” Mr. Jones said.

Mr. Garfield furiously slapped the table. “Mr. Jones, I understand that you want to defend your student, but as an art teacher, I know painting better than you. She definitely plagiarized this work!”

Some other teachers echoed his words.

“Yeah, though we don’t understand art, we can tell that there are many similarities between the two paintings. It’s obviously plagiarism.”

“Claire is a habitual offender. Do you remember what she did in the last Mathematical Olympiad?!”

“Yes, she didn’t even learn how to paint. How dare she sign up for an art competition? And how could she win first place?”

Mr. Jones gaped, speechless.

James adjusted his glasses and said gently, “Let’s wait for Claire to come. Don’t jump to conclusions.”

As soon as he said so, the door was pushed open.

Everyone turned their heads and looked at her.

Claire walked in slowly, deadpan. Her eyes were slightly narrowed and looked a bit sleepy. It seemed that she had just woken up.

Mr. Garfield frowned. He had been filled with admiration for her in the first place, but now he only felt contemptuous. Pointing to the cell phone on the table, he said coldly, “Claire, can you explain this?!”

Claire approached him and glanced at the phone.

On the screen, was a painting of Nancy.

She slipped her hand into her pocket, tilted her head, and smiled. “What do you want me to explain?”

At this moment, she was still playing innocent! How shameless this girl was!

Mr. Garfield was annoyed and said angrily, “You plagiarized Nancy’s work. Now I’m going to revoke your first place. Your deed is terrible. I will definitely report it to the school’s leaders. Just wait for the punishment!”

Claire slowly raised her eyes and looked at Mr. Garfield somewhat in confusion. Instead of panicking, she smiled. “Do you mean I plagiarized myself?”

Everyone was stunned and didn’t get what she meant.

“You…” Mr. Garfield pointed to Claire and his eyes were wide open in rage. “Are you crazy? Are you telling me you’re Nancy?!”

At this moment, Phoebe came over, held Claire’s arm, and said softly, “Claire, quickly admit it and apologize. I can help you intercede. Don’t talk nonsense here.”

Claire immediately pulled out her arm and patted her sleeve, as if she had touched something dirty.

Phoebe’s face paled.

Without a word, Claire pulled a chair over and sat down.

Then she raised her head, her eyes bright, her voice neither humble nor overbearing. “Yes, I am Nancy.”

Hearing it, everyone laughed.

“Hahaha… Is there something wrong with my ears? She actually said she is Master Nancy?!”

“Is this kid stupid?”

“Even if you want to quibble, you can’t say such ridiculous things!”

Mr. Jones rubbed his temple and sighed.

What was this kid… talking about?!

Mr. Garfield almost burst into tears of laughter. “Can you take a look at yourself? How dare you pretend to be Master Nancy? Just admit what you did. Don’t waste our time!”

Claire ignored him, took out her phone, and slammed it on the table.

Everyone immediately gathered around to look at it.

On the phone was a picture of an old man and a girl.

The girl was Claire.

And the old man turned out to be… Master Rice!