“Don’t be dramatic.”
That nearly broke my composure.
Nearly.
I leaned toward her.
“My daughter wrote about burying her father.”
Rebecca’s expression hardened.
“And she got plenty of sympathy for it.”
Lily stood so suddenly her chair scraped the floor.
I gently caught her wrist.
“Stay.”
Rebecca smiled again, mistaking my restraint for weakness.
Then Margaret returned.
She carried a tablet.
The foundation’s legal counsel walked behind her.
Ethan saw them and slowly lowered his champagne glass.
Margaret approached our table.
“Rebecca, Ethan, Mrs. Carter, Lily—would you come with me?”
Rebecca crossed her arms.
“If this is because Claire is making accusations, I want everyone to hear them.”
Margaret’s eyes sharpened.
“That can be arranged.”
Within minutes, the microphone was back on.
The room settled into confused silence.
Margaret stood at the podium.
“A concern has been raised regarding the authenticity of one scholarship submission.”
Rebecca whispered, “This is insane.”
Margaret connected her tablet to the ballroom screen.
Two applications appeared side by side.
Lily’s was dated October 3.
Ethan’s was dated October 29.
The essays were almost identical.
Then came the metadata.
Lily’s document showed seventeen revisions over six weeks.
Ethan’s showed one upload.
Created twenty-six days later.
Rebecca’s face drained.
Still, she stood.
“This proves nothing. Kids share files.”
I almost admired her nerve.
Margaret clicked another folder.
“Then perhaps this will.”
The scholarship portal automatically preserved upload information.
Ethan’s essay had been submitted from an email account belonging to Rebecca.
Rebecca looked at me.
For once, she wasn’t smiling.
But she still wasn’t finished.
“Claire could have fabricated this. She works with these systems.”
Several donors murmured at the accusation.
Rebecca pointed at me.
“She’s jealous because Ethan won.”
I stood slowly.
“I didn’t access your application.”
“Liar.”
“I didn’t need to.”
Margaret spoke before I could.
“Mrs. Bennett, Claire did not provide us these records.”
Then she opened both complete applications.
And that was when Ethan realized his mother had made a catastrophic mistake.
Because the essay wasn’t the only thing they had stolen.
PART 3
Margaret enlarged the activities section.
Ethan’s application claimed he had completed 220 hours volunteering at a community literacy center.
Lily looked at me.
“That’s mine too.”
It was.
Same organization.
Same dates.
Same description.
Even the same typo Lily had corrected in her final draft—but which remained in an earlier version Rebecca had emailed herself.
The room went completely silent.
Margaret turned toward Ethan.
“Can you name the director of the literacy center?”
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
“Can you tell us where it is?”
Ethan looked toward his mother.
Rebecca snapped, “He’s nervous.”
