Chapter 6
My father was still awake when I went downstairs.
He sat at the dining table with his laptop open.
His navy polo shirt was wrinkled.
Dark circles had formed beneath his eyes.
For the first time in my life, he looked older than forty-two.
"Dad?"
He turned immediately.
"Michael, why aren't you asleep?"
I held out my phone.
"You need to see this."
He took it.
I watched his expression change as he studied the photograph.
Claire.
Robert Collins.
Our kitchen table.
The confidential proposal.
Dad zoomed in on the date.
Then slowly put the phone down.
"Where did you get this?"
"Maya sent it by accident."
He looked at me.
"When?"
"Two months ago."
He closed his eyes.
I felt guilty.
"I didn't realize what it was."
Dad immediately shook his head.
"Michael, you had no reason to suspect your stepmother was doing this."
I swallowed.
He examined the photograph again.
Then forwarded it to Marcus.
Within minutes, Marcus called.
Dad put him on speaker.
"Daniel, where did this image come from?"
Dad explained.
Marcus was silent for several seconds.
Then he said, "Preserve the original message and the device. Don't alter the image."
I nodded even though he couldn't see me.
Marcus continued.
"This could help establish a timeline, but we need independent verification."
Dad rubbed his forehead.
"Do you think it proves Claire shared the proposal?"
"Not alone. We need to identify the documents and confirm what Robert received."
I felt frustrated.
Everything seemed to require more evidence.
More waiting.
More questions.
But Marcus was right.
We couldn't build the truth on assumptions.
After the call, Dad looked toward me.
"Go get some sleep."
I hesitated.
"Are you okay?"
He managed a sad smile.
"I will be."
I sat beside him.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked, "Do you still love Claire?"
Dad looked toward the dark kitchen window.
His face tightened.
"I loved the person I believed she was."
I swallowed.
"And now?"
He shook his head.
"I don't know whether that person was real."
His voice broke.
I had never heard Dad sound so lost.
I reached for his hand.
He squeezed mine.
Then whispered, "I'm sorry I brought this into your life."
I shook my head.
"Dad, you didn't make her do any of it."
He closed his eyes.
For a long time, we sat together.
Two people trying to understand how a home could change so quickly.
The next morning, the investigation began moving faster.
Marcus arranged for a digital forensic specialist to review the company's authorized systems.
The specialist identified suspicious access sessions connected to Dad's home office credentials.
Several confidential files had been downloaded.
The downloads occurred on days when Dad was at work.
Claire had been home.
That didn't automatically prove she was responsible.
But it narrowed the questions.
Meanwhile, the engineering competition organizers contacted Trevor.
They asked him to preserve his project files and explain the similarity between certain technical elements.
Trevor's father hired an attorney.
For the first time, the Collins family stopped acting as if everything was a misunderstanding.
At school, rumors spread.
Someone posted that I'd accused Trevor of stealing because I was afraid of losing.
Another person claimed I'd been caught cheating.
I walked through the hallway while people whispered.
A boy from my chemistry class looked at me.
"Is it true you copied Trevor?"
My face burned.
"No."
He shrugged.
"That's what people are saying."
I walked away.
But by lunchtime, someone had posted a screenshot from a group chat.
It said I was dangerous.
That I'd attacked Maya.
That Claire had been forced to protect her daughter.
I stared at my phone.
My hands began shaking.
The accusation I'd thought the security recording had disproved was spreading anyway.
I went to the bathroom.
Locked myself in a stall.
And cried.
I hated myself for crying.
I hated feeling powerless.
Most of all, I hated knowing that people could believe something terrible about me simply because it was dramatic.
When I finally returned to class, my science teacher, Mr. Ellis, asked me to stay afterward.
He was a tall man with gray hair and a calm voice.
I'd worked with him on engineering projects since freshman year.
He closed the classroom door.
"Michael, I've heard some things."
My stomach tightened.
"About Trevor?"
"About several things."
I looked down.
He pulled out a chair.
"Sit."
I obeyed.
Then he said something I desperately needed to hear.
"I know your work."
I looked up.
He continued.
"I've watched you build that project from the first prototype."
Tears filled my eyes.
"I know."
He leaned forward.
"And I have your old submissions, your test results, and the emails you sent me."
I started crying.
Mr. Ellis handed me a tissue.
"You're not alone in this."
I wiped my face.
He continued.
"The competition committee asked me for a factual statement. I'm going to provide one."
I swallowed.
"Will they believe you?"
He smiled gently.
"They'll have evidence to review."
For the first time that day, I breathed easier.
Then he asked, "How are things at home?"
I hesitated.
Then told him about Claire hitting me.
His expression changed.
He listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he said, "I'm sorry that happened."
I looked down.
He continued.
"You deserve to feel safe at home and at school."
He explained that the school counselor could help me deal with the rumors and stress.
I agreed to meet with her.
That afternoon, I told Dad about the messages spreading online.
His expression darkened.
He immediately contacted the school.
He didn't demand that everyone be punished.
He requested that the administration address false accusations and harassment based on verified information.
He also asked that the security evidence be handled through appropriate channels.
The school counselor met with me the following morning.
She reminded me that an accusation wasn't proof.
She encouraged me to talk about what happened instead of keeping everything inside.
I didn't tell her everything at first.
But eventually, I admitted something.
"I don't want to go home."
She looked at me gently.
"Why?"
I swallowed.
"Because every time I walk past my bedroom, I remember what happened."
My eyes filled.
"I keep expecting Claire to come around the corner."
She nodded.
"That sounds frightening."
I looked away.
"It is."
She helped me make a plan for managing the anxiety.
Dad agreed to continue arranging professional support.
Aunt Monica offered to stay with us temporarily.
Little by little, the house began feeling less threatening.
Then, on Thursday afternoon, Maya sent me a message.
I stared at her name.
I hadn't spoken to her since she left.
Her message was short.
"Michael, I need to tell you something about Trevor."
I didn't answer immediately.
I showed Dad.
He told me not to meet her alone.
Instead, we arranged a conversation with her grandmother present.
That evening, Maya arrived looking exhausted.
Her grandmother, Mrs. Harris, sat beside her.
Claire wasn't there.
Maya looked at me.
"I'm sorry for what people are saying at school."
I remained silent.
She swallowed.
"Trevor started some of it."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"Because he's scared."
I stared at her.
"Of getting caught?"
She nodded.
Then she reached into her bag.
She removed a small notebook.
I recognized it immediately.
My engineering notebook.
The one I'd been searching for since the theft.
My breath caught.
"Where did you get that?"
Maya's hands trembled.
"Trevor gave it to me."
I stared.
"Why?"
"He said I should destroy it."
The room went silent.
Dad slowly leaned forward.
"Maya, why did he want that destroyed?"
She looked at me.
"Because it has the dates of Michael's original designs."
My heart pounded.
I reached for the notebook.
Dad gently stopped me.
"Let's photograph it and preserve it properly first."
I nodded.
Maya started crying.
"There's something else."
Dad looked at her.
"What?"
She took a shaking breath.
"Trevor told me Robert already used parts of Michael's design in the city's technology presentation."
I stared at her.
Then she whispered, "And Claire knew."
My father slowly stood.
He looked toward the window.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he turned back.
"Do you have proof?"
Maya nodded.
She pulled out her phone.
And showed us a message from Trevor.
It contained one sentence.
"Your mom said Daniel would never believe Michael over her."
I felt something inside me break.
Because Claire hadn't simply betrayed us.
May you like
She had counted on my father failing me.
And my father was standing right beside me when we discovered it.
