Don't Mess with the Girl with Candy novel Chapter 57

“Impossible…”

The whiplash was too much for Yolanda. Her face turned ashen as she shook her head in disbelief. Juniper spent all her time running wild in the mountains. When would she have had time to learn to dance? For the past fifteen years, Yolanda had never once seen her dance. This had to be a trick!

As the reporter, Jaxon, wondered how to salvage the situation, his assistant leaned in. “Jaxon, The One tweeted again. It turns out someone was wearing a fake dress, but it wasn’t Queenie from Aurora High…”

“Then who was it?” Jaxon was starting to get PTSD from the words “fake dress.” This whole situation was giving him a massive headache.

“It was…” The assistant licked his lips, his expression complicated as he glanced at Yolanda.

“What are you trying to say?” Yolanda’s temper flared at his look. “Mine is authentic!”

Her father had spent fifty thousand dollars and pulled countless strings to get it.

“See for yourself,” the assistant said, holding out his phone.

Sure enough, three minutes ago, The One had posted a tweet. It directly accused her of wearing a counterfeit.

What? How could her dress be a fake?

At that moment, the online narrative had completely flipped, and everyone was attacking her.

“So Yolanda was the one wearing the fake?”

“Her live stream was apparently spotted by someone from The One. I heard their head of design reported it personally.”

“This is hilarious. A minute ago, she was telling everyone to be magnanimous and give Juniper a chance. Turns out she was the fraud all along.”

“I bet she was the one who started the rumors about Queenie’s dress being fake in the first place.”

What on earth was going on?

After the reporters left, Yolanda furiously dialed her father, Malcolm. “Dad, send me the purchase record for the dress. Now.”

She was going to shove it in the faces of The One and all those online trolls.

“Yolanda, listen to me…” Malcolm’s voice was hesitant over the phone. “About the dress…”

“What about it?” Hearing his evasive tone, a sense of dread washed over Yolanda. “Tell me! Where did you buy the dress?” she demanded, her voice rising hysterically.

“I did have someone look for the real one, but it was on very short notice, and the process with The One is slow. I was afraid you needed it urgently, and since it was just a simple school festival, I figured no one would notice. So…”

“So you bought me a fake?”