Chapter 6: The Message From My Own Account
I stared at the email.
My own address sat at the top.
My own name appeared as the sender.
But I didn't write it.
I didn't send it.
And yet, somehow, someone had used my identity to communicate with my father.
The message was short.
Too short.
*Dad, I no longer want the scholarship. Please don't fight the university's decision. I need you to respect my choice.*
My stomach twisted.
"I never wrote this.""
My father looked at me.
"I know.""
The way he said it made my chest tighten.
Because he believed me.
Finally.
After months of doubt.
He believed me.
The investigator pointed at the screen.
"This email was used to convince Mr. Carter not to challenge the scholarship cancellation.""
I looked at my father.
"Did you believe it?""
He looked away.
"For a few hours.""
My heart sank.
"Only a few hours?""
"I called you.""
"I was in class.""
"I know.""
"And then?""
He swallowed.
"Then Vanessa told me you were embarrassed and didn't want to talk about it.""
I laughed quietly.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was unbelievable.
"She made you think I gave up.""
My father nodded.
"I should have asked you directly.""
I looked at the floor.
That was the truth.
He should have.
But he didn't.
And Vanessa knew exactly how to use that.
The investigator continued.
"We recovered the login history.""
My attention returned to him.
"From where?""
"The email was accessed from multiple devices.""
He opened another document.
"The first access came from this house.""
My father looked at Vanessa's empty chair.
"Of course.""
"But the second access came from another location.""
"Where?""
The investigator hesitated.
"Your office.""
My father froze.
"My office?""
"Yes.""
The room became silent.
I looked at him.
"Did someone else have access to your computer?""
He shook his head slowly.
"No.""
Then he stopped.
A memory crossed his face.
"What?""
He stood suddenly.
"Wait.""
"What?""
He walked toward his desk drawer.
I followed.
He opened it.
Inside were old documents, keys, and files.
He pulled out a folder.
"I thought this was unrelated.""
He opened it.
His expression changed.
"What is it?""
He handed me a paper.
A visitor log.
From his office.
Three months earlier.
The day my scholarship disappeared.
One name was written there.
Someone who had visited him.
Someone who had spent twenty minutes alone in his office.
Someone I knew.
But someone I never expected.
My father whispered:
"How did I not see this?""
I looked at the name.
My hands went numb.
Because it wasn't Vanessa.
It wasn't a university employee.
It wasn't a stranger.
It was someone who had hugged me at my graduation party.
Someone who had congratulated me.
Someone who had told me they were proud.
I looked up.
"Who is this?""
My father didn't answer.
He just stared at the paper.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
Nobody moved.
Finally, he answered.
"Hello?""
A man's voice came through the speaker.
My father immediately recognized it.
His face changed.
"Why are you calling me?""
A pause.
Then my father's eyes widened.
"What?""
I stepped closer.
"Who is it?""
He didn't respond.
The person on the phone kept talking.
My father listened silently.
Then he said:
"Where are you right now?""
Another pause.
His hand tightened around the phone.
"Don't leave.""
He hung up.
I stared at him.
"Dad?""
He looked at me.
The fear in his eyes was worse than anger.
"Maya.""
"Who was that?""
He took a deep breath.
"The person who helped Vanessa.""
I waited.
"Who?""
He looked toward the front door.
Then he said:
"The person standing outside our house.""
The doorbell rang.
Once.
Twice.
And when my father opened the door, the person on the other side looked at me and said:
"Maya, I'm sorry.""
My blood ran cold.
Because it was someone I trusted.
Someone who had known my scholarship details before anyone else.
May you like
My university counselor.
And behind her, standing in the driveway, was Vanessa.
