Chapter 4: The Truth Behind the Records
The woman from the school administration stood in front of us holding a folder like it contained something fragile.
But I already knew it contained something that could break me.
“Whose account?”” my father asked again.
The woman looked at the papers.
“Mia Carter’s.””
For a moment, nobody moved.
My father looked at me.
I looked back at him.
Neither of us knew what to say.
Because there was a difference between someone ruining a dress.
A dress could be replaced.
A dress could be repaired.
But academic records?
Applications?
The future I had spent years building?
Those were different.
“What exactly was accessed?”” my father asked.
The woman opened the folder.
“Your daughter’s transcript information. Some recommendation documents. A few uploaded files connected to scholarship applications.””
My heart started beating faster.
“What does that mean?””
She looked at me carefully.
“It means someone attempted to view or alter information connected to your academic profile.””
The word *alter* made my blood run cold.
My father’s voice became sharper.
“Attempted?””
The woman nodded.
“Yes. Thankfully, the system flagged unusual activity.””
I felt dizzy.
“So nothing changed?””
“Not that we can confirm.””
Not that we can confirm.
Those words scared me.
Because they meant there was still something unknown.
“What was she trying to change?”” I asked.
The woman glanced down.
“We’re still investigating.””
My father stepped closer.
“Can you tell us anything?””
She hesitated.
“Some files appear to have been opened repeatedly.””
“Which files?””
She looked at me.
“Your scholarship recommendation letters.””
My stomach dropped.
Those letters were everything.
One of them was from my chemistry teacher, who had spent hours helping me write my application essay.
Another was from my volunteer coordinator at the community center.
Those weren’t just documents.
They were proof of years of effort.
Proof that someone had seen my hard work.
I looked at my father.
“Why would she do that?””
Neither of us answered.
Because we already knew.
The woman closed the folder.
“We will need Mia to come in for a meeting. Since she is eighteen, she is responsible for her own actions.””
My father nodded.
“Understood.””
She handed him a card.
“If you have questions, contact me.””
Then she walked away.
I watched her disappear into the crowd of graduates and families.
Everyone around us was celebrating.
Taking pictures.
Laughing.
Hugging.
And I was standing there wondering how someone who lived under the same roof as me could spend so much time trying to tear me down.
My father put a hand on my shoulder.
“Emma.””
I didn’t answer.
“Look at me.””
I forced myself to.
“This is not your fault.””
I looked away.
“I know.””
But there was something else I couldn’t say.
A part of me felt embarrassed.
Not because Mia had done something wrong.
Because I had spent years defending her.
Whenever someone asked why she acted cold toward me, I always had an explanation.
“She’s adjusting.””
“She’s just different.””
“She doesn’t mean it.””
I had built excuses around someone who was quietly building a plan against me.
That hurt.
When we got home, Mia was sitting on the couch.
She was still dressed for graduation.
Her makeup was slightly smudged.
She looked smaller somehow.
Not innocent.
Just less powerful.
Karen was sitting beside her.
Both of them looked up when we entered.
Mia immediately stood.
“Dad—”
My father held up a hand.
“Don’t.””
She stopped.
The room went silent.
Karen looked between us.
“What happened?””
My father placed the school administrator’s card on the table.
Karen picked it up.
Her face changed as she read it.
“Mia?””
Mia looked away.
I watched carefully.
I expected anger.
A denial.
An excuse.
Anything.
But she just whispered:
“They weren’t supposed to find out.””
The sentence hit harder than any confession.
Not:
“I didn’t do it.””
Not:
“You misunderstood.””
Just:
“They weren’t supposed to find out.””
My father closed his eyes.
“Why?””
Mia looked at him.
And for the first time, I saw something real in her expression.
Not jealousy.
Not anger.
Pain.
“Because I’m tired.””
My father frowned.
“Tired of what?””
She laughed bitterly.
“Of being the second choice.””
Nobody spoke.
Mia looked at me.
“You don’t understand what it’s like.””
I almost responded.
But I stopped.
Because I wanted to hear.
For once, I wanted to know what was happening inside her head.
“You came into this family and everything changed,” she said.
My eyebrows pulled together.
“Mia, I was twelve.””
“I know.””
Her voice cracked.
“I know you didn’t choose it.””
That surprised me.
She looked down.
“But after you came here, Dad started changing.””
My father looked confused.
“I loved both of you.””
“That’s not what it felt like.””
Karen reached for Mia’s hand.
“Mia…”
But Mia pulled away.
“No. I need to say this.””
She looked at me.
“You were always the responsible one.””
I stayed quiet.
“You got good grades. Teachers loved you. Dad talked about you all the time.””
I shook my head.
“That’s because I worked hard.””
“I know!””
Her sudden shout made everyone freeze.
“I know you worked hard.””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“That’s the worst part.””
I didn’t understand.
“What do you mean?””
She wiped her face.
“Because I couldn’t even hate you properly.””
The room became silent.
“You weren’t cruel. You weren’t mean. You didn’t deserve it.””
Her voice dropped.
“But I was angry anyway.””
For a moment, I saw the girl underneath everything.
The insecure girl.
The scared girl.
The girl who thought love was something that ran out.
But then she ruined it.
Because she continued.
“So I thought if I made you lose something, maybe everyone would finally notice me.””
My father stared at her.
“You thought destroying Emma’s graduation would make people notice you?””
She didn’t answer.
That was enough.
Karen stood.
“Mia made mistakes, but she’s my daughter.””
My father looked at her.
“And Emma is mine.””
Karen went quiet.
The words weren’t cruel.
They were just true.
My father turned back to Mia.
“I need the truth.””
She looked nervous.
“About what?””
“Everything.””
Her face changed.
“What?””
“Was the dress the only thing?””
Silence.
A long silence.
Then Mia looked down.
And I knew.
There was more.
My father saw it too.
“Mia.””
She swallowed.
“There were other things.””
My chest tightened.
“What things?””
She didn’t look at me.
“I hid your college acceptance letters.””
I stopped breathing.
“What?””
My father’s face changed.
“Which letters?””
“The ones that came last month.””
My hand flew to my mouth.
I remembered.
I had been waiting for those letters.
Two universities had sent notifications.
I thought they were delayed.
I thought the mail had been lost.
I thought maybe I had made a mistake on my applications.
But they weren’t lost.
They were hidden.
“Why?”” I whispered.
Mia started crying.
“I don’t know.””
“No.””
My voice became stronger.
“You do know.””
She looked at me.
And finally said the words.
“Because I wanted you to think you didn’t get accepted.””
The room went completely still.
I felt something inside me collapse.
Not anger.
Not sadness.
Something deeper.
Betrayal.
“You wanted me to give up?””
She whispered:
“Yes.””
I laughed quietly.
A painful, broken laugh.
“All this time, I thought I wasn’t hearing back because something went wrong.””
Mia looked away.
“I’m sorry.””
The apology came too late.
Not because apologies don’t matter.
Because some damage changes things forever.
My father walked toward the staircase.
“Mia, go to your room.””
She looked up.
“Dad—”
“Now.””
She left.
No argument.
No attitude.
Just silence.
After she disappeared upstairs, Karen sat down.
“She needs help.””
My father nodded.
“She does.””
I looked at him.
“And me?””
His expression softened.
“You need honesty.””
I looked down.
The girl I had lived with for years had secretly been fighting against me.
And I had never seen it.
That night, after everyone went to sleep, I sat at my desk.
The same desk where I had hidden my graduation savings.
The same desk where I had studied.
The same desk where I had written my dreams.
Then I noticed something.
A small piece of paper sticking out from underneath my keyboard.
I pulled it out.
It wasn’t mine.
The handwriting was Mia’s.
Only three words were written on it.
*You still don’t know.*
My heart started racing.
Because underneath those words was another sentence.
May you like
A sentence that made me realize the truth about Mia’s plan was much bigger than jealousy.
*Ask Dad why he really chose you.*
