Chapter 11: Before I Arrived
I stared at Dad.
“What are you talking about?””
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“When you applied to Westbridge, your entrance scores were almost perfect.””
“I know.””
“What you don't know is that they rejected you.””
My mouth went dry.
“No, they didn't.””
“Yes.””
“I got the scholarship.””
“Eventually.””
I shook my head.
“That doesn't make sense.””
Dad pulled out his phone.
“I kept the emails.””
Of course he did.
My father kept warranty receipts for appliances we no longer owned.
He searched for several seconds.
Then handed me the phone.
The email was dated three years earlier.
*Dear Mr. Bennett,*
*After careful consideration, we regret to inform you...*
I stopped reading.
“I was rejected?””
“Yes.””
“But why?””
“They wouldn't tell me.””
Dad leaned back.
“So I requested your admissions file.””
“Could they give you that?””
“Some of it.””
He found another email.
“I compared your scores with the published admissions criteria. Nothing made sense.””
“So what did you do?””
“I became annoying.””
Despite everything, I smiled.
“That I believe.””
He almost smiled too.
“I called. I emailed. I requested meetings.””
Dr. Pierce listened carefully.
“Who did you meet?””
Dad looked at her.
“Wallace.””
My smile disappeared.
“He told me Westbridge considered more than test scores. Character. Community fit. Teacher recommendations.””
“Community fit,” I repeated.
The same phrase Mrs. Carter had used.
Dad nodded.
“I asked what part of your character was deficient.””
“What did he say?””
“Nothing specific.””
Dad looked embarrassed.
“I lost my temper.””
“You?””
“Hard to imagine.””
Rachel, the attorney, almost smiled.
Dad continued.
“I told him if Westbridge was rejecting qualified scholarship applicants because their parents couldn't write donation checks, I'd start asking questions publicly.””
Dr. Pierce leaned forward.
“What happened after that?””
“Three days later, I got a phone call.””
“From Wallace?””
“No.””
Dad's face tightened.
“Richard Carter.””
The room became silent.
My skin prickled.
“Why would Madison's father call you before I even attended Westbridge?””
“He said he'd heard I was unhappy with admissions.””
“What else?””
“He offered advice.””
Rachel asked, “What kind?””
Dad looked at me.
“He suggested I enroll you somewhere else.””
My heartbeat quickened.
“He knew who I was?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“I never knew.””
Until now.
I looked at Madison's message.
*why your dad should've kept you out of Westbridge.*
Rachel took Dad's phone.
“Do you have records of the call?””
“Maybe an old phone bill. I wrote notes afterward.””
“You wrote notes?””
“I write everything down.””
Rachel smiled.
“I like you.””
Dad ignored her.
“Richard told me Westbridge could be socially difficult for students who didn't come from certain backgrounds.””
Dr. Pierce looked disgusted.
“He actually said that?””
“Almost word for word.””
“What did you tell him?””
Dad looked at me.
“I told him my daughter wasn't afraid of rich kids.””
My eyes burned.
“Dad.””
“I may have used stronger language.””
Rachel cleared her throat.
“We'll clean that up later.””
Dad continued.
“Two days after Richard called, Westbridge reversed the decision.””
Dr. Pierce frowned.
“Why?””
“They said a scholarship position had opened.””
I suddenly remembered something.
“Wait.””
Everyone looked at me.
“My scholarship wasn't supposed to exist.””
“What do you mean?”” Dad asked.
“Freshman orientation.””
I could see it clearly.
Madison standing with two girls near the auditorium.
She'd looked at my name tag.
Then she'd said something strange.
*So you're the replacement.*
At the time, I'd assumed she meant another student had declined admission.
“What did she say?”” Rachel asked.
I repeated it.
Dr. Pierce stood.
“We need the admissions records.””
Priya started typing.
It took twenty minutes.
The answer was worse than I expected.
My scholarship had belonged to another student.
A girl named Sofia Ramirez.
Top grades.
Excellent entrance scores.
Accepted in January.
Withdrawn in March.
I stared at her file.
“Why did she withdraw?””
Priya opened the notes.
“Family decision.””
Rachel leaned closer.
“Contact information?””
Dr. Pierce hesitated.
“We can't simply disclose—”
“Don't disclose it to me. Contact the family yourself.””
Dr. Pierce nodded.
She left the room.
Dad sat beside me.
“You okay?””
“No.””
That was becoming my most honest answer.
Twenty minutes later, Dr. Pierce returned.
“Sofia's mother answered.””
“And?””
“She remembers Westbridge very well.””
Something in her expression frightened me.
“She said they didn't voluntarily withdraw.””
Rachel stood.
“What happened?””
“According to Mrs. Ramirez, Sofia was accused of falsifying part of her scholarship application.””
My stomach dropped.
“Was it true?””
“She says no.””
“Who investigated it?””
Dr. Pierce looked at the file.
“Wallace.””
Dad cursed under his breath.
“And after Sofia lost the scholarship,” I said, “it came to me.””
“Yes.””
“But why would Richard try to stop me too?””
Rachel had gone completely still.
“What year did Madison enter Westbridge?””
“The same year as Emma,” Dr. Pierce said.
Rachel looked at me.
“And was Madison competing for scholarship recognition?””
I almost laughed.
“Her family didn't need money.””
“Not financial aid.””
Rachel pointed at Sofia's file.
“Prestige.””
Priya searched.
Then she found it.
Westbridge awarded something called the Founder's Scholar distinction to the incoming student with the highest combined entrance score and academic portfolio.
The winner received automatic eligibility for certain academic programs.
Science competitions.
Special recommendations.
National fellowship nominations.
I looked at the ranking.
Sofia Ramirez had been first.
I had been second.
Madison Carter had been third.
Remove Sofia.
I become first.
Remove me.
Madison becomes Founder's Scholar.
“They tried to get rid of both of us,” I whispered.
Dad stared at the screen.
“But Emma stayed.””
“Yes,” Rachel said.
“And that meant Madison spent three years watching Emma receive opportunities Richard expected his daughter to have.””
The anonymous messages suddenly made sense.
The fellowship.
The planted chemistry files.
The pressure.
This had started before Madison ever tore my test.
That was just the first time I'd fought back where everyone could see.
Dr. Pierce's phone buzzed.
She looked at it.
Then at me.
“Sofia wants to speak with you.””
“Me?””
“She saw the video.””
My throat tightened.
“What did she say?””
Dr. Pierce read the message.
“Tell Emma I kept the letter.””
Rachel immediately asked, “What letter?””
Dr. Pierce typed a response.
A minute later, a photograph arrived.
She enlarged it.
The letter was on Westbridge stationery.
It accused Sofia of submitting fraudulent financial documentation.
At the bottom was Wallace's signature.
But Sofia had written something across the margin in blue ink.
*Original documents were correct. Someone replaced them after submission.*
Dad whispered, “They framed her.””
Rachel didn't answer.
She was staring at the date.
“What?”” I asked.
Rachel pointed.
“This letter was issued three days before your father received Richard Carter's call.””
A horrible thought formed.
Richard hadn't called Dad because he randomly heard about an unhappy applicant.
He'd called because Sofia was already gone.
And I was next.
Then Dad's phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered cautiously.
“Hello?””
His face changed.
“Who is this?””
I watched him listen.
Then he stood so fast his chair fell backward.
May you like
“What do you mean you've been inside my house?””
My blood froze.
