My step-sister Brittany's graduation party quickly devolved into a public mockery of me. My step-family and ex-boyfriend Jason relentlessly called me "slow" and "worthless." The scar on my cheek, a constant reminder of Jason's past negligence, tightened with each cruel word. My stepfather, Richard, then initiated a colossal public bet, wagering $100,000 I wouldn't get into *any* state college. My stepbrother Kyle bet his Mustang GT on my SAT score being below a thousand, and Jason openly wagered valuable retail spots for Brittany's assured triumph. They eagerly anticipated my utter public embarrassment over college acceptances and test scores. When I calmly wrote "0" on my estimated SAT sheet, the garden erupted in a deafening, cruel laughter. Jason, feigning disgust, publicly dumped me and added a family heirloom to the mounting betting pile. My step-family gleefully contributed their vacation condo and company shares, convinced of my impending ruin. Then, the official College Board site displayed "SAT Score: 0," unleashing a final, vicious torrent of triumph and online ridicule. My heart felt like cold stone, yet my face remained impassive as I watched their unveiled greed and contempt. They believed my humiliation was complete, oblivious to the technicality behind that "zero" score and the true story of my scar. This public spectacle, designed to destroy me, only hardened my resolve. However, just as my stepfather's rage peaked, three black sedans arrived, and my formidable grandmother, Eleanor Miller, stepped out. Flanked by admissions deans from Harvard, Stanford, and MIT, she calmly announced my actual, flawless SAT score: a perfect 2400. They further revealed me as a National Merit Scholar and the sole heir to the multi-billion dollar Miller Industries. With their signed betting agreement, the Hayes family's world was about to spectacularly unravel.
My step-sister Brittany's graduation party quickly devolved into a public mockery of me.
My step-family and ex-boyfriend Jason relentlessly called me "slow" and "worthless."
The scar on my cheek, a constant reminder of Jason's past negligence, tightened with each cruel word.
My stepfather, Richard, then initiated a colossal public bet, wagering $100,000 I wouldn't get into *any* state college.
My stepbrother Kyle bet his Mustang GT on my SAT score being below a thousand, and Jason openly wagered valuable retail spots for Brittany's assured triumph.
They eagerly anticipated my utter public embarrassment over college acceptances and test scores.
When I calmly wrote "0" on my estimated SAT sheet, the garden erupted in a deafening, cruel laughter.
Jason, feigning disgust, publicly dumped me and added a family heirloom to the mounting betting pile.
My step-family gleefully contributed their vacation condo and company shares, convinced of my impending ruin.
Then, the official College Board site displayed "SAT Score: 0," unleashing a final, vicious torrent of triumph and online ridicule.
My heart felt like cold stone, yet my face remained impassive as I watched their unveiled greed and contempt.
They believed my humiliation was complete, oblivious to the technicality behind that "zero" score and the true story of my scar.
This public spectacle, designed to destroy me, only hardened my resolve.
However, just as my stepfather's rage peaked, three black sedans arrived, and my formidable grandmother, Eleanor Miller, stepped out.
Flanked by admissions deans from Harvard, Stanford, and MIT, she calmly announced my actual, flawless SAT score: a perfect 2400.
They further revealed me as a National Merit Scholar and the sole heir to the multi-billion dollar Miller Industries.
With their signed betting agreement, the Hayes family's world was about to spectacularly unravel.
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