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Chapter 172

Chapter 172 Turning Tables

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Chapter 172 Turning Tables In ran an old man who was out of breath. His glasses were slightly askew, and there was something affable in the way his large belly moved with his every breath.

It had been a while since Victor last dropped by the school, and his visit today was an impromptu as well.

Even though the school had one of the worst academic performances in Southdale, he still had a few students he needed to keep an eye on.

Victor had been delighted when he walked by the cafeteria earlier and overheard the students saying Wynter had come.

With such a rare opportunity at hand, he decided he must have Wynter give a talk during the school assembly:

However, when Victor heard the students say that Wynter was bound to be expelled after Karina had demanded to meet her parents or guardians, he panicked.

Paying no mind to the heads of departments behind him, Victor immediately ran toward the school office block.

The heads of departments exchanged a baffled look. None of them knew what had just happened.

Despite running as fast as he could, Victor still couldn't make it in time. Regret filled him as he questioned his decision to hire someone like Karina in the first place.

Karina did not sense Victor's regret as she gaped at the man. Hurrying up to him, she asked, "Mr. Lopez! What are you doing here?"

"Oh," Wynter mused indifferently as enlightenment dawned upon her. "I see that Ms. Greene got her job through connections."

Horrified to hear this, Victor quickly shook off Karina's hold as if to draw boundaries.

He stared at Wynter pleadingly and said, "There's been a mistake, Wynter. You know I would never allow this to happen. You are always welcome at our school."

Karina's eyes widened in disbelief. "Mr. Lopez! S-She refuses to learn and never scores well in her exams. Not to mention, she has a horrible attendance. We can't have a student like her in our school!"

"You could've been more accommodating of her," Victor snapped. "You call yourself a teacher when you don't even know your own student's aptitude?"

Chapter 172 Tuming Tables

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At this point, the school's heads of departments had arrived at the scene. Students swarmed the office block and were whispering among themselves.

Seeing this, Karina feigned resentment as she said tearfully, "If you're here to defend Mrs. Yates and give her a second chance, then I have nothing to say.

"However, letting Wynter stay here will bring shame to the medical industry! She can't even set up an IV drip properly! She'll only embarrass us when she goes out into the workforce."

"Ms. Greene has a point," a student said.

"Our school may be average, but at least we're working hard together. Wynter will only drag us down."

Margaret squeezed Wynter's hand when she heard this. She was worried that the girl would be affected.

However, Wynter smiled nonchalantly and eased Margaret into a seat.

"Ignore them," she said in an unbothered voice.

"Do you see how insubordinate she is, Mr. Lopez?" Karina pointed atm horem Wynter "She has no remorse! She's a lousy student, and she's too arrogant to apologize for her mistakes!"

A loud thud sounded through the room as Victor slammed his palm against the table. His chest was heaving as he snapped icily at Karina, "You should be the one apologizing!"

As he said this, he turned and pointed at the students who had gathered to watch. "That goes for all of you too!"

Gone was Victor's affable demeanor as he glowered at the crowd. "I set up ΠΙ

this school to help you, not to provide you a place for gossip! I don't have to tell you more about Wynter's accomplishments.

"Did none of you youngsters ever come across her livestreams? Go search up Empathy Clinic on your social media and see for yourself!"novelbin

He looked grave as he added, "Let me make something clear. As long as I'm here, don't any of you dare to pick on Wynter. It is our honor that she decided to come to school here."

Having heard this, the heads of departments and students immediately searched "Empathy Cliniq" on their social media.

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