Chapter 3
I read the email three times.
Each time, the same words stared back at me.
My scholarship would be released if I didn’t correct the withdrawal before Monday.
It was Saturday.
Dad leaned over my shoulder. “What does that mean?”
“I never withdrew.”
The principal, Ms. Carter, led us into her office. She had already spoken with the university’s admissions desk after receiving a strange message that morning.
“A withdrawal came from Aaliyah’s account,” she said. “The university contacted me because the explanation didn’t sound like her.”
“What explanation?” I asked.
Ms. Carter hesitated.
“Read it,” I said.
She turned her computer toward me. The message claimed I was giving up college to stay home and help my family. It said I had lost interest in my program and wanted no further contact.
The words were formal and cold.
Nothing about them sounded like me.
Dad read the screen. “Who had access to her account?”
“I had a password,” I said. “It was saved on my laptop.”
I pictured the laptop on my desk. Mia had been in my room long enough to cut up the dress.
My hands tightened around the edge of the chair.
Ms. Carter called the admissions office while we sat there. A weekend staff member took down the details and promised to flag my file.
“We need to establish that Aaliyah didn’t send it,” Ms. Carter told her.
When she hung up, she looked at me. “We’ll get you through this.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t make myself speak.
Dad drove us home. Vanessa’s car was gone. So were several suitcases from the closet by the front door.
Mia’s torn bag still lay on my bed beside the ruined dress.
Dad had to see it too. He stopped in the doorway.
“I’ll call Vanessa,” he said.
“No. First I want to check my laptop.”
I opened it. My email account was still signed in. I found the withdrawal in the sent folder, dated Thursday night at 11:46.
I had been asleep.
Dad stood beside me as I opened the account activity page. The sign-in had come from our home network. I took pictures of the screen and changed my password while Dad watched.
Then I checked the other messages in my inbox.
There was one from the university asking me to confirm a housing choice. It had been opened. I hadn’t seen it before.
Another asked whether I would attend a scholarship welcome event. That had been opened too.
I felt as if someone had been standing over my shoulder for weeks.
“Did Mia know your password?” Dad asked.
“No. But my laptop opens with a code. She saw me enter it all the time.”
He closed his eyes.
I pulled up the withdrawal message again. Its last sentence said I understood I might lose the award and would not appeal.
“She wanted to make sure they wouldn’t call,” I said.
Dad stepped into the hallway to phone Vanessa. I heard only his side.
“Did Mia use Aaliyah’s laptop?”
A pause.
“Put her on.”
Another pause.
Then his voice changed. “Vanessa, this concerns her college.”
I could hear Vanessa answering, though I couldn’t make out the words.
Dad returned to my room and put the call on speaker.
Vanessa’s voice filled the space. “Mia says she didn’t send anything. Aaliyah is upset and looking for someone to blame.”
“I can show you the message,” I said.
“I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
“There is,” Dad said. “Someone used her computer.”
Vanessa went quiet.
Mia’s voice came from farther away. “Maybe Aaliyah changed her mind and forgot.”
“I didn’t,” I said.
“Well, I didn’t touch her stupid college stuff.”
Dad glanced at my laptop. “I haven’t told you which account was used.”
Mia said nothing.
Vanessa cut in. “David, stop interrogating her.”
“We’re ending this call,” Dad said. “Aaliyah has work to do.”
He hung up before Vanessa could answer.
I expected to feel better. Instead, I felt sick.
Destroying my dress was cruel. Trying to take away my scholarship felt different. Mia knew how hard I had worked. She knew the school had offered me a place I couldn’t afford on my own.
Dad called the university again. We learned that the office handling appeals would open Monday morning. The weekend staff member added a hold so my award wouldn’t be reassigned before then.
Ms. Carter emailed a letter confirming I had attended graduation and had spoken excitedly about college plans all week.
Tessa offered to send the pictures we had taken that morning, though we didn’t know if they would help. I thanked her anyway.
By evening, I was exhausted.
Dad made dinner. I pushed the food around my plate.
“I should have listened when you said Mia was taking things from your room,” he said.
I looked up. “You thought I was being petty.”
“I did.”
“You thought I didn’t want Vanessa here.”
“I know.”
There was no way to soften how much that had hurt. Dad waited while I gathered the courage to say it.
“Every time I came to you, you told me to try harder with them.”
His face fell.
“I made you responsible for keeping this house peaceful,” he said. “That was my job.”
I blinked hard. It was the first time he had said it without asking me to forgive him.
After dinner, I carried the ruined dress to my closet. I didn’t want to throw it away, though looking at it hurt.
As I folded it, a small envelope slipped from the garment bag.
My name was written on the front in Vanessa’s handwriting.
Inside was a printed copy of my university acceptance letter. Across the top, in red pen, someone had written: YOU DON’T DESERVE THIS.
Dad had followed me upstairs. He saw the page in my hand.
Neither of us spoke.
May you like
Then my phone rang.
The caller ID showed Mia’s name.
