Chapter 2
The recording began with a picture of my father's private office.
The date appeared in the corner.
March 12.
9:43 p.m.
Six weeks before my graduation.
I recognized the room immediately.
The heavy wooden desk.
The framed photograph of my mother.
The silver desk lamp Dad had owned since he started his construction company.
Then Diane appeared.
She wore a red blouse.
Her short silver hair was neatly styled.
She placed a folder on Dad's desk and opened his laptop.
The auditorium grew silent.
On the recording, Diane took out her phone.
She called someone.
Then she said something that made my stomach twist.
"Marcus is out of town. We have until Friday."
I heard my father inhale sharply behind me.
A man's voice answered through the speaker.
"Are you sure the girl won't notice?"
Diane laughed.
"Maya doesn't know anything about money."
My face burned.
The man asked about the account.
Diane leaned closer to the computer.
"Sixty-eight thousand four hundred dollars. Every penny."
A murmur swept through the audience.
Someone gasped.
Diane's recorded voice continued.
"The college account is sitting there doing nothing, and I need that money for the salon expansion."
The male voice sounded nervous.
"What about Marcus?"
Diane smiled.
"He'll believe whatever I tell him."
My throat tightened.
Dad made a sound behind me.
I turned slightly.
He was staring at the screen.
His hands had become fists.
The recording showed Diane removing documents from the folder.
She held one beneath the desk lamp.
The camera captured my father's name above a signature.
Then she said:
"I copied his signature from the last contractor agreement."
The auditorium erupted.
Dr. Brooks stepped toward the microphone.
"Everyone, please remain seated."
Diane screamed from the aisle.
"THAT'S PRIVATE!"
Dad turned toward her.
"What signature?"
She shook her head.
"Marcus, don't listen!"
But the recording continued.
The man on the phone asked about my university paperwork.
Diane replied:
"I already told the scholarship office Maya changed her plans."
I stopped breathing.
That was why I'd been receiving those strange emails.
That was why Ashford University thought I hadn't completed my acceptance.
Diane hadn't just taken money.
She had interfered with my scholarship.
The man's voice grew uneasy.
"That's going too far."
Diane laughed.
"She doesn't need some fancy university."
My eyes filled.
"She can stay home and help me run the salon."
I gripped the podium.
The microphone captured my breathing.
For years, Diane had told me college was a waste of time.
She mocked my interest in engineering.
She said girls from ordinary families shouldn't dream beyond what their parents could afford.
But I'd thought she was simply cruel with words.
Now I knew she had been making plans to trap me.
The recording showed her closing the laptop.
Then she looked toward the office doorway.
Her voice dropped.
"Once the money clears, Marcus will have no choice but to accept it."
The video ended.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then the auditorium exploded with noise.
"She stole that girl's money!"
"That's her stepmother?"
"How could she do that?"
My father pushed through the aisle.
His face looked different.
Not merely angry.
Devastated.
He stopped in front of Diane.
"Tell me that wasn't my office."
Diane began crying.
"Marcus..."
"Tell me you didn't use my signature."
She shook her head.
"You're misunderstanding everything!"
Dad stared at her.
"The recording shows you discussing Maya's account."
Diane looked around desperately.
"Everyone is turning against me!"
Dad's voice rose.
"You tried to destroy my daughter's future!"
I had never heard him sound like that.
Diane stepped backward.
"Marcus, I did it for us!"
My chest tightened.
For us.
As though the money my mother left me belonged to Diane simply because she married my father.
Dr. Brooks approached me.
"Maya, are you all right?"
I shook my head.
I wasn't.
My legs felt weak.
My hands trembled.
I had exposed the truth.
But now everyone knew my family's most painful secret.
Dr. Brooks gently guided me away from the microphone.
She asked the technician to stop the projection.
Then she addressed the audience.
"We're going to take a brief pause while we support our student."
The screen went dark.
A school counselor stepped toward me.
I tried to speak.
Instead, I began crying.
I had spent six weeks holding everything inside.
Pretending I wasn't frightened.
Pretending my scholarship wasn't in danger.
Pretending I could solve everything alone.
Now I couldn't stop the tears.
Dad hurried toward the stage.
"Maya!"
I stepped backward.
He stopped.
"Sweetheart, please."
I looked at him.
"Why didn't you believe me?"
His face crumpled.
I had asked him about the missing money two weeks earlier.
He told me Diane said it was a banking delay.
He promised he'd check after his business trip.
Then he forgot.
Now he was staring at the proof.
"Maya, I'm sorry."
My voice broke.
"I told you something was wrong."
"I know."
"You said I was worrying too much."
Tears filled his eyes.
"I was wrong."
I wiped my cheeks.
"You weren't there."
He lowered his head.
Those words hurt him.
I could see it.
But they were true.
Dad had been traveling for work for years.
He paid for everything.
Our house.
My school.
My clothes.
But whenever Diane treated me badly, he told me to be patient.
Whenever I complained, he said she was trying her best.
I had stopped telling him things because I already knew what he'd say.
"Maya, I'm sorry."
I looked away.
I wasn't ready to forgive him.
Not yet.
Then Diane appeared at the foot of the stage.
Her face was twisted with anger.
"You little liar!"
Dad turned.
"Enough!"
She stopped.
He stepped between us.
"Do not speak to my daughter like that again."
Diane stared at him.
For the first time, she looked frightened of losing him.
But I was finished watching their arguments.
I turned toward Dr. Brooks.
"Can I still graduate?"
Her expression softened.
"Of course you can."
I began crying harder.
She placed a hand on my shoulder.
"You earned your place here, Maya."
I looked toward the auditorium.
My classmates were waiting.
My name was still on the graduation program.
My diploma was ready.
Diane had tried to take everything.
But she hadn't taken that.
I straightened my cap.
Then I whispered:
"I want to finish."
Dr. Brooks smiled.
"Then let's finish."
But just as she turned toward the podium, my father's phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
His expression changed.
It was his company's accountant.
He answered.
Listened.
Then went pale.
"Maya," he whispered, "there's something else."
I looked at him.
"What?"
His voice shook.
"The money didn't go where Diane said it went."
May you like
My stomach dropped.
And suddenly, the recording seemed like only the first piece of a much larger betrayal.
