My coldhearted ex demands a remarriage

Chapter 1055:

They did not press with more than that. The question alone carried weight. Caught off guard, Carrie answered instinctively, “Yes. I completed it independently. I did not reference or borrow from anyone.” The response dropped into the room like a stone into still water. A stir broke out among the students.noveldrama

“You’re lying!” someone blurted from the back.

“You plagiarized the work of Randell’s composer!”

As the accusation echoed through the room, Carrie turned to face the speaker. The warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by a glacial calm. Her voice was composed, deliberate.

“Do you have any proof that I plagiarized?”

The student didn’t hesitate.

“Your composition is nearly seventy percent identical to Aliza’s. How can you possibly deny it?”

He had already drawn his conclusion—Carrie must have copied Aliza. That her piece was far more polished and emotionally resonant didn’t matter.

The mere appearance of similarity was enough for most to condemn her. In their eyes, plagiarism was a stain, unforgivable regardless of context.

But Carrie didn’t flinch. Unmoved, she asked evenly, “If our pieces are so similar, why assume I copied her? Why not the other way around?” Without waiting for his reply, she pressed on, her tone now edged with faint scorn, “Is it because she performed before me? Do you think that proves anything?” She turned her gaze toward the others.

“The performance order was determined randomly. None of us knew who would play when—not until the moment came.”

Someone interrupted sharply, “Maybe not, but you’re from the Morrison family…”

𝔤𝓪𝓵𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵𝓼.𝓬𝓸𝓶 – more stories here

Luca rose at once, his voice steady but stern.

“Are you questioning the integrity of the Music Association?”

He looked around the room.

“If I wanted to rig the outcome, do you think I’d bother with something as petty as the draw? Carrie wouldn’t need to go through this entire process with you. If I wanted to hand her a place, who could stop me?”

He paused, letting the silence stretch before continuing, “But if the Music Association really worked like that, it wouldn’t have lasted in Isonridge, nor would it still be a place where students from ordinary backgrounds can rise.”

From the side, Arion added dryly, “Exactly. If Grandpa were biased, how would I always end up scraping the bottom?” That shut down the conversation.

Arion’s self-deprecating honesty left no room for argument.

The student who had spoken up earlier seemed to realize the gravity of what he’d implied. Thankfully for him, he’d kept a low profile. No one besides his own family knew it was him.

He looked down, silent and ashamed.

Because in truth, it was the Association’s fairness that had given countless students from modest backgrounds a shot at success—sometimes even lifting entire families with them.

He wasn’t sure if he’d been motivated by justice… or envy. Envy that someone like Carrie—blessed with background—still worked as hard as everyone else.

Sometimes, those who feel powerless don’t reflect on their shortcomings. They blame the system. They blame those who succeed.

Carrie broke the silence with a soft smile.

“Even if, for argument’s sake, the draw was manipulated—though it wasn’t—I wasn’t even in the hall when Aliza performed. And even if I had been, plagiarism requires a copy. You say our pieces aren’t exactly the same. So tell me—who here is capable of hearing a piece once, modifying it, and producing something better in just a few minutes?”

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