Chapter 9: The Trap They Built for Me
By the next morning, my name was everywhere.
Not because I had won a competition.
Not because I had exposed harassment.
Because someone had created a new story.
*Scholarship Student Accused of Hacking University Records.*
The headline spread faster than the truth ever could.
Westbridge released a statement saying they were investigating “unauthorized access.””
They never mentioned Veronica.
They never mentioned the garbage.
They never mentioned the edited video.
They mentioned me.
Again.
I stood inside Ethan’s conference room watching the news coverage.
“I’m becoming the villain.””
Ethan looked at the screen.
“No.””
“That’s what everyone sees.””
He turned toward me.
“Not everyone.””
I looked at him.
“Then why does it always feel like I’m fighting alone?””
He didn’t answer.
Because there was no easy answer.
A knock came at the door.
Sophie entered.
She looked exhausted.
“I found something.””
I turned.
“What?””
She placed a small device on the table.
“The recording my grandfather protected.””
Ethan looked at it.
“Where was it?””
“Hidden inside an old music box.””
She looked at me.
“He told me Daniel said nobody would think to look there.””
I stared at the device.
Another piece of my father.
Another secret.
“Play it.””
Sophie pressed the button.
Static filled the room.
Then my father’s voice appeared.
“If you are hearing this, then they already know Amelia is searching.””
My heart tightened.
“They will try to isolate her.””
I looked at Ethan.
My father continued.
“They will make her question the people helping her.””
Nobody spoke.
“They will create evidence against her.””
The room went silent.
Because he had predicted everything.
“My mistake was believing money was the most dangerous weapon.””
A pause.
“It isn’t.””
My father’s voice became quieter.
“Information is.””
The recording continued.
“Amelia, there is one person who can prove everything.””
I leaned closer.
“Someone who witnessed what happened.””
The recording cracked.
Then my father said:
“She has been silent for years because she was afraid.””
I looked at Sophie.
“Who?””
My father continued.
“Her name is Evelyn Carter.””
I froze.
My grandmother.
I hadn’t heard that name in years.
My father’s mother.
The woman everyone said moved away after he disappeared.
The recording ended.
I looked at Ethan.
“Where is she?””
He was silent.
Too silent.
“You know.””
Ethan slowly nodded.
“Yes.””
“Where?””
He looked at me with regret.
“She’s been living under a different name.””
“Why?””
“Because she was hiding.””
“From who?””
Ethan looked toward the window.
“From the same people who destroyed your father.””
I felt my hands shake.
After years of searching for answers, I was finally close.
But every answer opened another door.
Then Ethan’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed immediately.
“What happened?””
A long silence.
Then:
“Send me the location.””
He ended the call.
I stood.
“What?””
He looked at me.
“It’s Evelyn.””
My heart stopped.
“Where is she?””
Ethan grabbed his coat.
“She was found.””
A pause.
“But someone got to her first.””
I felt cold.
“Is she alive?””
Ethan looked at me.
And the fear in his eyes gave me the answer before he spoke.
“She left one message.””
“What message?””
He picked up the notebook.
“She wrote your name.””
I stepped closer.
“What else?””
Ethan’s voice dropped.
“She wrote…”
He stopped.
May you like
I waited.
“She wrote, ‘Amelia, trust no one who arrives after the damage is done.’”
