Downstairs, in a shady spot, Clara Grant and Miles Quinn came to a stop.
"Miles, thank you for today," Clara Grant said, looking at the handsome young man before her.
"Don't mention it. It was no trouble at all," Miles Quinn said, waving his hand dismissively.
"Honestly, I didn't want to just let it go today. Deleting the post, finding the person who framed you, forcing them to apologize, and making sure they were severely punished—none of that should have been skipped.
But the man in the photo wasn't me, after all. Besides, plenty of students saw me get to campus before you did that day.
I was afraid if I pushed the culprit too hard, they might produce evidence proving the man in the photos wasn't me, which would just throw you back into the center of the controversy.
So, Clara, I'm sorry you had to go through this."
Hearing his last words, Clara Grant felt her eyes sting, and she nearly burst into tears.
