Chapter 4
I had known Assistant Principal Patricia Reed for four years.
She always smiled when Diane visited the school.
She called Brianna a future leader.
She praised her expensive clothes and polished manners.
But whenever I entered her office, she looked irritated.
Once, when I asked about a national science competition, she told me I should focus on more realistic goals.
I applied anyway.
I won second place.
She never congratulated me.
Now Principal Claire was telling me Patricia's computer had been used to upload a forged transcript.
My stomach turned.
"Does Patricia know?"
Claire looked uncomfortable.
"She's being asked to explain the activity."
Grandpa's expression hardened.
"Please preserve the computer and access logs."
Claire nodded.
"We've contacted our technology director."
I looked at her.
"Could the false transcript affect my graduation?"
She turned toward me immediately.
"No, Maya. Your official academic record remains unchanged."
I exhaled.
But only for a moment.
Because Diane had already shown me how easily a lie could spread.
Even if the school corrected everything, people might still whisper.
They might say I cheated.
They might claim Grandpa bought my success.
They might decide I was only another rich man's granddaughter.
And that frightened me.
I had worked too hard to let anyone erase my achievements.
Grandpa seemed to read my expression.
"Your work speaks for itself, Maya."
I shook my head.
"Not if people believe her."
He knelt slightly so we were eye to eye.
"Then we'll make sure the facts are clear."
I swallowed.
"How?"
"Through proper records. Independent review. And patience."
I nodded.
It wasn't the dramatic answer I wanted.
But it was the right one.
Principal Claire sat beside me.
"Maya, I want you to understand something."
I looked up.
"Your selection file includes blind scoring."
I frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"The reviewers evaluated your essays and projects without seeing your name."
My heart lifted.
She continued.
"Your application received the highest score in the program's history."
I stared.
"Really?"
She smiled.
"Really."
Tears filled my eyes.
For years, Diane had told me I was ordinary.
Nothing special.
Someone who would always disappoint people.
Now the principal was telling me my work had earned the highest score the foundation had ever recorded.
I covered my mouth.
Grandpa smiled.
"I read your research proposal after the results were finalized."
I looked at him.
"You did?"
He nodded.
"The low-cost rehabilitation sensor."
I felt my heart race.
That project had taken eighteen months.
I built a wearable device designed to help physical therapists monitor recovery exercises in children.
I created it after watching my mother struggle through rehabilitation before her final illness.
I wanted to make treatment more accessible.
Grandpa continued.
"Your design is remarkable."
I began crying.
"Thank you."
He smiled.
"Your grandmother would have framed every page."
I laughed through tears.
For the first time that afternoon, I felt something like happiness.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from Brianna.
Maya, please don't go home tonight.
My smile disappeared.
I stared at the screen.
Another message arrived.
Mom is furious. She's calling people.
My stomach tightened.
I typed quickly.
What people?
Three dots appeared.
Then vanished.
Then appeared again.
Finally, Brianna replied.
I don't know all of them. But I heard her say your scholarship isn't the real problem.
I felt cold.
What did that mean?
Before I could respond, she sent another message.
She said if Grandpa sees the full financial records, Dad is finished.
My heart stopped.
Dad.
Not just Diane.
My father.
I showed Grandpa the messages.
His expression changed.
Then he took out his phone.
"Olivia, I need you."
I recognized the name.
Olivia Grant was Grandpa's attorney.
He briefly explained the situation.
Then ended the call.
He looked at me.
"Maya, I need to ask you something difficult."
I swallowed.
"Okay."
"Has your father ever asked you to sign financial documents?"
I thought carefully.
Then remembered.
Six months earlier, Dad had brought a folder into the kitchen.
He said I needed to sign some forms for college planning.
Diane stood beside him.
She watched every movement.
I remembered asking whether I could read the papers.
Diane laughed.
"Don't pretend you're a lawyer, Maya."
Dad told me they were routine.
I signed.
Now my stomach twisted.
"Yes."
Grandpa's expression darkened.
"When?"
"Six months ago."
"Did you receive copies?"
I shook my head.
"No."
He closed his eyes.
I felt terrified.
"Grandpa, what did I sign?"
He took my hand.
"We'll find out."
A few minutes later, Dad appeared at the office door.
His face looked exhausted.
"Maya."
I stood.
He glanced at Grandpa.
"Father, can I speak to my daughter alone?"
Grandpa didn't move.
"Ask her."
Dad looked surprised.
Then turned toward me.
"Maya?"
For six years, he had made nearly every decision for me.
Sometimes directly.
Sometimes by allowing Diane to decide.
Now someone was finally asking what I wanted.
I took a breath.
"I want Grandpa to stay."
Dad's face fell.
"Sweetheart—"
"Please."
He nodded reluctantly.
Then sat down.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Finally, I asked,
"Dad, did you know Diane tried to change my scholarship results?"
He looked down.
"Maya, things are complicated."
My chest tightened.
"That's not an answer."
He rubbed his forehead.
"Diane believes Brianna was treated unfairly."
I stared at him.
"So she was allowed to cheat?"
He flinched.
"Don't use that word."
"Why?"
He looked at me.
"Because she's still your stepmother."
I felt tears rise.
"She tried to ruin my future."
He said nothing.
Then I asked the question that had been burning inside me.
"Dad, did you spend Mom's money?"
His face went completely pale.
Grandpa leaned forward.
"Calvin, answer her."
My father looked toward the door.
Then whispered,
"I didn't mean for things to get out of control."
I stopped breathing.
Not a denial.
An admission.
I took a step backward.
"What did you do?"
Dad began crying.
"Diane said we would put it back."
My heart shattered.
"Put what back?"
He covered his face.
Grandpa's voice became cold.
"How much, Calvin?"
My father shook his head.
"Please."
"How much?"
Dad looked at me.
Tears streamed down his cheeks.
"Two hundred and eighty thousand dollars."
The room seemed to tilt.
I grabbed the chair.
My father's voice broke.
"We used it to cover business losses."
I couldn't speak.
Then he added something that made everything worse.
"And some of it paid for Brianna's private school expenses."
I stared at him.
The expensive tutoring.
The summer programs.
The new car.
My mother's money.
My future.
My father's promises.
All sacrificed to make Diane happy.
Then Grandpa asked quietly,
"Calvin, did you sign the authorization to disqualify Maya?"
My father froze.
He looked toward me.
May you like
And the expression on his face told me the answer before he spoke.
"Yes."
