In her past and present lives, Kenneth had never done anything good for her. Even though she had managed to put aside her hatred, how could she simply treat him as a friend? After finishing her sentence, Tiffany turned and left without hesitation.

Kenneth stood there for a few seconds. His handsome face shifted unpredictably before he finally smiled bitterly and carried Melody to the school clinic. Melody was seriously injured: a slight concussion, several contusions, a sprained and swollen ankle, and near-broken bones.

While Melody remained unconscious and underwent treatment, Kenneth retrieved the apartment's surveillance videos. The footage corroborated Melody's account: Tiffany had almost fallen, and Melody, reaching out to help, had lost her footing and tumbled downstairs. He had misunderstood Tiffany again.

Kenneth patted his head. Vexed, he suddenly noticed a problem: undetectable oil stains on the stairs. Only Tiffany and he had been in the apartment; Melody had only napped in his room. No one else. Was it an accident, or sabotage? A thorough review of the surveillance footage revealed no other individuals.

Kenneth frowned, his gaze falling on Melody. He shook his head. Impossible, he thought, questioning the very thought itself. Melody had clearly fallen saving Tiffany; she couldn't have known beforehand. Kenneth rubbed his forehead and sighed. It was time to abandon his rash habit of accusation without ascertaining the truth.

Melody woke up shortly afterward. The school doctor, the same old man, calmly stated, "You'll be fine after some rest. Fortunately, your injuries aren't severe." He then left.

After her initial post-awakening confusion, Melody looked at Kenneth with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Kenneth. It seems I've caused you trouble again."

08:14 Fri, Oct 18 Chapter 211

"What are you talking about? I'll take care of you from now on." Kenneth paused, realizing his words were ambiguous. He continued, "You saved my life. It's the right thing to do."

He admitted to being tempted by Melody, especially after she'd saved him that night. His feelings—a mix of gratitude and something more—were complex. Taking care of her, protecting her, felt right. However, he'd also confessed that until he broke off his engagement with Tiffany and could offer Melody a proper status, their relationship would remain platonic. He'd wait, and so would she. Upon the termination of the engagement, he would pursue her officially.

Melody smiled slyly. "My foot hurts too much to walk. Can you carry me to class?"

"Of course," Kenneth smiled. But then, the image of Tiffany on crutches—her injuries even more severe, yet without complaint—flashed in his mind. He was stunned. Why am I thinking of Tiffany?

Melody's smile faltered as she noticed Kenneth's distraction. Her heart turned cold. She'd miscalculated.

7:00 pm

Tiffany and Oliver were to meet at the school library. Tiffany preferred to stay close, so Oliver brought a friend. Heavily disguised, even his fans wouldn't recognize him.

The library was relatively empty. They found a secluded corner. After a three-minute wait, Oliver and his companion, Harold Lester, arrived. Their conversation was casual and informal.

Oliver introduced them. "Miss Kelley, this is my friend, Harold Lester." Unlike Oliver, a famous director, Harold was an unknown newcomer with no significant achievements. His work had received lukewarm reviews.

But Tiffany's interest piqued upon hearing his name. From her past life, she knew Harold would become famous within a few years. His film would garner critical acclaim, and he’d win numerous awards. However, currently, he was at least three years from that success.

Tiffany considered this, then handed him two scripts she’d written. "Mr. Lester, please take a look."

"Okay."

Harold, also a screenwriter, was surprised the writer Oliver had praised was a young woman. He read the scripts to assess her ability. Her handwriting was elegant and neat.

After twenty minutes, his impression of Tiffany changed; he admired her talent. However, upon reading the second script, he frowned. "This script someone sent this to me before. It's identical to yours."

Identical meant either plagiarism or theft. Harold was tactful; he implied Tiffany had either plagiarized or been plagiarized.

Oliver immediately asked, "Someone sent it to you? Are you sure? The complete version?"

"Yes, but only the first part. And it's exactly the same." Harold looked at Tiffany, his eyes subtly questioning.

Tiffany was stunned. She mostly handwrote her scripts, often during class. If someone had stolen them Melody, recently transferred, had offered to help clean her desk; a manuscript had disappeared then.

Tiffany smiled faintly. "Mr. Lester, could you reveal that person's email? I lost a manuscript recently. I suspect someone sent it to you."

Harold hesitated. Oliver interjected, "Don't you trust Miss Kelley, or me? This is obvious!"

Harold explained, "It's not that I don't want to, but what can you do with just an email address?" He showed Tiffany the email: simple, with only documents and a nickname.

Tiffany sent the email to her brother. Within three minutes, the IP address and sender were identified: Melody Princeton.