The Unveiling of Secret Queen-Chapter 142: Mastering the Art of Gaining Sympathy_1

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Chapter 142: Chapter 142: Mastering the Art of Gaining Sympathy_1

The day after she had dinner with Hendra Wafford, different voices began to emerge online in McKinney.

Clearly, Jane Bailey had intentionally harmed someone, using a steel pipe on the school’s rooftop in an attempt to kill a fellow student.

After some self-media platforms twisted the story, it suddenly became about "a certain student" who used their status to bully others, got rid of the B class’s homeroom teacher, and left B class students angry but silent. Jane Bailey, young and ignorant, simply wanted to teach the bullying "certain student" a lesson, without realizing the severity of the consequences.

The police had taken her away on the spot.

Jane Bailey’s father had passed away a long time ago, leaving only her mother at home. Upon hearing about the incident at the school, her mother fell ill and couldn’t get up.

She’s still lying in a hospital bed.

She had pleaded with the school several times to give her daughter another chance.

Jane Bailey’s mother couldn’t take the shock and attempted suicide by slitting her wrists in the hospital; fortunately, a nurse discovered her early, and the doctors managed to save her life.

A combination punch of resentment towards the rich plus a sob story was delivered.

Different voices started appearing online.

[I think since no one was injured, there’s no need to make such a big deal out of it, right? Clearly, that little girl lacked family love from a young age and impulsively did something wrong. The child is not yet of age; at the very least, the school should give her a chance to reform.]

[I just want to know who "that student" is, with such a powerful background that they’d want to ruin a fellow student’s life over an accident. So young, yet so malicious!]

[A relative’s child goes to No. 1 Middle School, and I think I heard him mention that the other party is also a girl, who just transferred to No. 1 Middle School not long ago—I think her name is something like Nathalie Quinlan.]

[A transfer student? It figures she got in through connections. That Jane Bailey is just too pitiful! These days rich people do whatever they want, and for such a trivial matter, the police arrest someone, and no one seems to care?]

...

Similar rumors spread across major online platforms, and some media outlets went to the hospital to interview Mrs. Bailey, who had attempted suicide by slitting her wrists, while others went to the No. 1 Middle School forums to ask around.

For a while, when Nathalie Quinlan walked the school’s corridors, people would whisper and steal glances at her. The Tucker Family had pulled such big strings to get her out of trouble.

McKinney isn’t that big.

Word was bound to get out.

Lowie Wilmar received the news as soon as it broke and made arrangements to meet with Nathalie Quinlan after getting off the airplane.

At a coffee shop in the airport.

Nathalie Quinlan, rarely seen in this attire, wore a crimson JK uniform and had her hair in a ponytail, tied with a matching ribbon that hung quietly at the nape of her neck. She found a seat by the window, ordered a cup of ice water, and leaned there, her eyelashes slightly lowered, playing with her phone. Her beautiful face looked both innocent and untamed.

There had been many rumors about her online recently.

And just as many people messaging her out of concern for the matter.

Like Silvania Ingram.

She had been abroad these past few days.

But Jethro Yapiter was in McKinney and had heard about the incident at No. 1 Middle School, messaging her constantly, asking if they should come forward to silence some of the media outlets spouting nonsense.

Then there was Valencia Jett, who somehow found out about her situation and surprisingly took the time to express concern about her wellbeing.

Besides these people,

Nathalie Quinlan also received a text message from Cindy Lawrence, warning her not to offend people and drag the Quinlan Family down with her.

Many individuals at the airport coffee shop sipped their coffee alone; some waiting for flights, others waiting for people.

Elegant music played in the coffee shop, and Nathalie Quinlan blinked her lashes, decisively dragging the phone numbers of those who had sent her lengthy sermons into her block list.