[FLASHBACK]
"Miss Bennet, is it true that you’re part of this grand sche...?"
"What’s your brothers’ involvent in all of this?"
"Miss Bennet, why did you do such a thing? Are you not ashad of what you’ve done to your family?"
Reporters sward around the police officers escorting Penny to the station. Penny flinched at the cara flashes and microphones being shoved in her face. Though the police tried to hold them back, they could only do so much.
"Miss Penelope!"
"Miss Bennet!"
"Why would you do such a thing?"
"Was your brother, the soldier, involved too?"
"Slater Bennet’s your brother, Miss Bennet—does he have a say in this?!"
"The Pri Group was part of this sche... is that how your family accumulated its wealth?!"
All their voices and questions blended into the air, making it hard for Penny to focus on who was speaking. With the pushing, the yelling, and the intensity of the crowd, it nearly suffocated her.
’I feel dizzy,’ she thought, squinting against the lights. She felt lightheaded. She didn’t know whether it was from the suffocating air or the fact that she hadn’t eaten in the past twenty-four hours.
The police had shown up at the most unsuspecting ti of the day. Just as Penny had been debating whether to eat or sleep, exhausted from working tirelessly for the past week. Or was it the lack of sleep? She hadn’t had much of that, either.
"Miss Penelope!"
"Miss—"
Penny’s drifting thoughts halted as sothing hit the side of her head. Her brows rose, the pungent sll of rotten egg assaulting her nostrils.
"You traitor!" a man’s voice suddenly echoed through the air. His outburst startled both Penny and the reporters.
For a mont, silence fell over the scene until the furious, middle-aged man shouted again.
"You traitor!" His face was flushed red, his eyes bloodshot. "You killed my daughter! Because of you, my daughter is dead!"
The reporters sward around him like bees to a flower. A few stayed with Penny, but their questions grew more aggressive with less competition.
Penny, anwhile, was confused. It was as though her mind had gone blank for a mont.
"What..." she murmured, trailing off, just as another egg struck the other side of her head.
"Traitor!"
Then another egg hit her. "Greedy woman! You’re a killer!"
One by one, an angry crowd—previously thought to be bystanders—began to express their grief and anger. They hurled eggs, rotten tomatoes, and whatever they could find in Penny’s direction.
It took Penny a mont to process what was happening.
She looked around at the furious faces of people she didn’t even know, hearing them call her every vile na imaginable. The reporters relentlessly fild and questioned her, caring only for their next big story. The police, although protecting Penny, mostly seed concerned about shielding themselves from the objects flying their way.
It was chaos.
As the officers dragged Penny towards the station, another object ca flying her way—this ti, a pebble. Though small, it stopped her in her tracks.
Penny halted again, lowering her head. She touched her temple with her cuffed hands and noticed the blood on her fingers.
What surprised her more? The blood? Or the fact that this was all real? The arrest, the police, and the situation—it was all real.
Penny’s face turned pale, her eyes wide with shock. Slowly, she raised her head to fully absorb the scene, and this ti, her mind didn’t dare drift.
"Miss Penelope, please say sothing!"
"You killer!"
"The world is better without you in it!"
Just when Penny thought she had grown used to receiving unreasonable hate, she realized she was wrong. Tears slowly welled up in her eyes, and the corners reddened.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "I didn’t... I didn’t do it..."
"Miss Penelope, are you saying sothing?!"
"Miss Bennet, are you admitting guilt?!"
The reporters pushed their microphones so close that they were nearly touching her face. The police had to drag Penny through the crowd as their energy surged.
But finally...
"I didn’t do it!" Penny cried out in panic, turning her head as she tried to defend herself. "It’s not ! I didn’t do it! Please! I didn’t! It’s not ! I didn’t!"
She repeated the words over and over, her voice filled with desperation, tears streaming down her face as she looked into the eyes of her accusers.
"I didn’t do it! Please! It’s not ! Please believe —I didn’t do it! Please... believe ! Help , I’m innocent!"
Penny scread these words repeatedly, almost begging, until they reached the station, where the reporters were not allowed to follow.
---
* * *
"I didn’t do it! Please! It’s not ! Please believe —I didn’t do it! Please... believe ! Help , I’m innocent!"
Zoren sat in a wing chair, watching the news while waiting for soone. His expression remained neutral, making it difficult for anyone to guess what he was thinking.
"Sir," Mark called quietly as he approached Zoren from the side. He leaned over and whispered, "Sir, it seems William Pierson got into an accident. He won’t be able to make it."
Zoren rocked his head slightly. "Dean already thinks he’s useless?"
Mark straightened, choosing not to answer. He didn’t need to; Zoren already knew the answer.
Zoren pushed himself up from the armrest and was about to leave when he suddenly paused.
Mark furrowed his brows, watching his boss, only to notice Zoren was staring at the large television. Penny was still on the screen, pleading her innocence as the crowd surrounded her.
"Mark," Zoren said quietly, gaining his attention.
"Yes, sir?"
"Investigate her case."
"What?" Mark’s brows knitted in confusion. He glanced at the TV, then back at Zoren, who was still fixated on the screen.
"I didn’t do it! Please, it’s not ! Please... believe !" Penny’s desperate voice echoed through the room.
"Sir, why the sudden interest in this case?" Mark asked, perplexed. "I don’t think it concerns you. Besides, you have a lot on your plate, especially with Dean Pierson making moves."
"It’s fine," Zoren said, his gaze unwavering on the screen.
"May I ask why?"
Zoren didn’t answer imdiately. He watched the broadcast until the news anchor appeared, and then turned to leave. "Because..." he trailed off, resuming his steps, "I believe her."
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