Chapter 8: The Person Who Betrayed Me First
I couldn’t understand what I was seeing.
The name on the document didn’t make sense.
It belonged to someone who had hugged me.
Someone who had celebrated my achievements.
Someone who had told me I was family.
My father.
I looked at Principal Harris.
Then at Laura.
Then back at the paper.
“No.””
The word came out automatically.
Laura remained calm.
“I understand this is difficult.””
“No.””
I pushed the document away.
“This isn’t possible.””
My father’s name was on the first request.
Not as a complaint.
As a withdrawal attempt.
He had requested that the school pause the scholarship approval process.
I felt sick.
“He tried to stop it?””
Nobody answered.
And that silence hurt.
I stood.
“I need to talk to my father.””
Principal Harris nodded.
“I think you do.””
I found him outside the school.
He was standing near the parking lot, staring at the building.
When he saw my face, he knew.
“What happened?””
I held up the document.
His expression changed.
“Where did you get that?””
“Why?””
He looked away.
“Imani…”
“No.””
My voice shook.
“You don’t get to do this again.””
He closed his eyes.
“I can explain.””
“Then explain.””
The parking lot was quiet.
Students walked past us, unaware of the storm happening between us.
My father took a deep breath.
“I didn’t try to destroy your scholarship.””
“But you tried to stop it.””
“Yes.””
The honesty hurt.
“Why?””
He looked at the ground.
“Because Denise convinced me something was wrong.””
I stared.
“She convinced you?””
“She showed me documents.””
“Fake documents?””
“I didn’t know.””
I laughed softly.
“Dad.””
He looked at me.
“You believed her before believing me.””
He had no answer.
And that was the answer.
I walked away.
Not because I hated him.
Because I didn’t know how to stand there anymore.
That night, I didn’t sleep.
I sat on my apartment floor surrounded by memories.
My mother’s letter.
The scholarship papers.
The documents.
Everything was proof of one painful truth.
The people closest to me had made decisions about my life without me.
The next morning, my father came to my apartment.
I almost didn’t open the door.
But I did.
He looked exhausted.
“I owe you the truth.””
I didn’t respond.
He stepped inside.
“When Denise first questioned your records, I didn’t believe her.””
“Then why did you sign?””
He looked ashamed.
“Because she showed me something.””
“What?””
He reached into his coat.
He handed me an envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
A photograph of my mother.
But not alone.
She was standing beside a man I had never seen before.
My heart stopped.
“Who is that?””
My father sat down.
“That is the reason Denise started everything.””
I looked at him.
“Explain.””
He stared at the photograph.
“Before your mother and I met, she had someone else in her life.””
I felt confused.
“Okay.””
“His name was Daniel.””
“And?””
“And when Denise found old records, she discovered your mother had once listed Daniel as an emergency contact.””
I frowned.
“That doesn’t mean anything.””
“I know.””
My father looked at me.
“But Denise convinced me it meant there were questions.””
“Questions about me?””
“Yes.””
I felt anger rising.
“You knew Mom.””
“I did.””
“You knew who she was.””
“Yes.””
“You knew she loved me.””
“Yes.””
“Then why did you let someone make you doubt that?””
He looked broken.
“Because after your mother died, I was terrified.””
The honesty surprised me.
“I was afraid of losing you too.””
I softened slightly.
But only slightly.
“Fear doesn’t excuse hurting me.””
“I know.””
He looked at me.
“I should have trusted the woman I loved.””
I looked at the photograph again.
There was something strange about it.
Something familiar.
“Wait.””
I pointed.
“Where was this taken?””
My father looked.
“At a hospital.””
“When?””
He went silent.
“Dad?””
He picked up the photo.
The color disappeared from his face.
“That’s impossible.””
“What?””
He flipped the photograph over.
There was writing on the back.
A date.
And a sentence.
My hands shook as I read it.
“The day we learned the truth about Imani.””
I looked at my father.
“What truth?””
He didn’t answer.
May you like
Because he was staring at the date.
The same date my mother had died.
