?Chapter 1060:

The solution could have been simple—one call to Soren or Randell would settle everything immediately.

But resolving things so easily would let Aliza escape the consequences of her repeated provocations. Carrie intended this lesson to linger.

With this in mind, Carrie’s lips curved into a measured smile.

“Randell has a public appearance scheduled in a few days,” she said, her tone deceptively casual.

“I could attend as a masked guest without revealing my identity. Would that suffice as proof?”

“That would be more than adequate.” One judge nodded, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

“Even behind a simple mask, your presence would be unmistakable.”

Carrie turned toward him.

“As the wronged party, I’ve been forced to repeatedly defend my integrity. But what of my false user?” Her gaze shifted to Aliza.

“She shouldn’t escape this unscathed. If I prove I am indeed Randell’sposer, I expect Miss Herrera to publicly acknowledge her theft and offer a formal apology.”

Though Carrie had missed hearing Aliza’s piece during her bathroom break, the crowd had emphasized the uncanny simrities between theirpositions while insisting Carrie had giarized. Only one exnation made sense—Aliza had stolen her work.

A memory suddenly crystallized in her mind: that day in the piano room when she’d abandoned her handwritten drafts in the trash bin. Aliza must have retrieved them then.

Panic shed in Aliza’s eyes, herposure slipping inch by inch. She had never imagined that Carrie—quiet, low-key Carrie—was the geniusposer behind Randell’s most celebrated works.

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Beside her, Bernie, unable to withstand the growing tension and humiliation, muttered something about work and fled the room in haste.

Aliza turned to Kristopher, searching his expression for reassurance. Kristopher raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

“What’s wrong? You didn’t giarize anything, so what are you so afraid of?”

Aliza forced a smile, her expression a strained mix of anxiety and awkward denial.

“Y-Yeah… you’re right.”

But her nerves betrayed her. Kathleen, seated beside her, immediately reached over and grabbed her hand. She shot Aliza a sharp, warning nce and leaned in, her voice a near-whisper.

“Don’t let her get to you. She might be bluffing—trying to shake yourposure. If you panic, she won’t even need proof. People will just assume you’re guilty.”

Aliza squeezed her mother’s hand tightly, drawing strength from the cold logic.

Yes, she couldn’t afford to let Carrie scare her—not here, not now.

Kathleen stood, her tone measured and diplomatic as she said, “Ms. Campbell, what you said just now may not be entirely urate. From what I understand, Randell and Asher are rted. And Asher is publicly known to be close to you. But instead of proper verification, you’re asking his cousin to privately vouch that you’re the realposer? How can we be sure he’s telling the truth?”

Her words, calm and subtle, began to shift the room. Murmurs spread. Admiration for Carrie was nowced with doubt. Whispers turned to suspicion. Some even cast side-eyes at the Morrison family, wondering if they were exploiting their influence.

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