Chapter 9 - The Collision in the Hallway
For a long, agonizing moment, time seemed to freeze in the marble-columned lobby.
Dean Sterling stepped out behind my father, his expression stern and unyielding. But when the dean spotted Julian Rhodes standing beside me, his professional demeanor shifted instantly into one of deferential respect.
"Mr. Rhodes," Dean Sterling said, stepping forward and extending his hand. "We weren't expecting you until noon. The emergency board session regarding the financial audit has just concluded."
Julian shook the dean’s hand firmly. "Thank you, Dean Sterling. I brought Ms. Vance with me to ensure she heard the board's decision firsthand."
My father looked frantically between Julian, the dean, and me. His face was gray, the skin around his eyes sagging with profound exhaustion.
"Ava," my father whispered, taking a desperate half-step toward me, his hands trembling. "Please... you have to talk to the dean. You have to tell them it was all a terrible misunderstanding. Brandon is... the police are at the house. They're talking about indicting him on felony wire fraud and identity theft. Your mother hasn't stopped crying for two hours."
I didn't flinch. I looked at the man who had spent my entire life teaching me that family meant sacrificing my future to feed a golden boy's mistakes.
"The police are just doing their job, Dad," I said, my voice completely level. "Just like Brandon did his."
"Ava, he's your brother!" Dad cried out, his voice breaking as a few passing students turned their heads to stare at the commotion. "We raised you! Is this really how you pay us back? By destroying our family over some petty paperwork?"
"It wasn't paperwork," Dean Sterling intervened, his voice cutting across the lobby with cold authority. "Mr. Vance, your son forged federal student loan documents and misappropriated institutional grant funds allocated for academic merit. That isn't family business; that is a criminal offense against this university."
Dad stumbled backward, hitting the edge of the marble reception desk. He looked at me with eyes full of desperate, shattered betrayal. "You did this. You walked in here and destroyed everything we built."
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"No, Dad," I said, stepping past him toward the inner office doors. "I just stopped paying for a house of cards."
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