My half-sister poured a glass of cabernet straight over my head in front of sixty donors, then gasped and told our father I’d shoved her.
The next day, still reeling from Dr. Evans’s stark warning, I made my way back to Oakridge to collect the rest of my art supplies. The campus felt different, quieter, as if it already knew I was an outcast.
I kept my head down, avoiding eye contact, heading straight for the studio. As I neared the administrative building, a familiar voice drifted from behind a hedge.
Julianne.
Her voice was hushed, but the sharp edge of it carried on the breeze. I instinctively slowed, ducking behind a large oak tree, the leaves partially obscuring me.
She wasn’t alone. Dean Holloway stood beside her, his posture attentive, a polite, almost deferential look on his face.
“My father is… distressed by all this, Dean,” Julianne was saying, her tone laced with faux concern. “He hates any kind of disruption. Especially when it involves family.”
Dean Holloway nodded, his hands clasped behind his back. “I understand, Julianne. Believe me, I’m doing everything within my power to resolve the situation discreetly.”
“Discreetly isn’t enough,” she countered, stepping closer to him, her voice dropping even lower. I strained to hear. “The board meeting is Friday. If Maya is allowed to present some… ridiculous defense, it will drag everything out.”
A cold certainty settled over me. She was still trying to manipulate him.
“I need this settled. Now,” Julianne continued, her voice gaining a steely edge. “Before anyone else can cause trouble.”
Dean Holloway cleared his throat, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face. “Julianne, the process is—”
“My father’s $500,000 campus expansion pledge,” she interrupted smoothly, cutting him off mid-sentence. “He was planning to deliver the check next month. But if this situation with Maya is… finalized, *permanently*, before the board even meets on Friday, I can assure you that check will be delivered ahead of schedule.”
My breath hitched. My father’s generous endowment, accelerated in exchange for my permanent expulsion. A half-million dollars for Dean Holloway to seal my fate and get rid of me for good.
Dean Holloway’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. He straightened his tie. The discomfort vanished, replaced by a calculating gleam.
“Julianne,” he said, his voice now entirely devoid of his earlier hesitation. “I assure you, I am a firm believer in decisive action when the facts are clear. Protecting the academy’s integrity and its generous benefactors is always my top priority.”
He offered her a slight, almost imperceptible nod. “You can consider the matter handled.”
Julianne’s lips curled into a faint, triumphant smile. She didn’t say another word, simply turned and walked away, her steps light and confident.
Dean Holloway stood there for a moment, adjusting his glasses, a look of satisfied resolve on his face. He knew what he was doing. He wasn’t just influenced by Julianne; he was actively enabling her, trading my future for a fat check.
I pressed myself further into the shadows, a wave of disgust washing over me. This wasn’t about justice or truth. It was about money and power, and I was caught in the middle. The system was rigged.
Julianne wasn’t just trying to get me suspended. She wanted me gone, silenced, and she was willing to buy my permanent expulsion with our father’s money.
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