Chapter 2

After the assembly, stories about my “deeds” spread like wildfire in Atherton University.

“Throwing her weight around.”

“Jealous of a poor student.”

“Forcing her own mother to abuse her position.”

Quinn became everyone’s inspirational little sweetheart, while I was painted as the vicious, spoiled heiress.

Louis didn’t even bother pretending anymore.

He stopped bringing me breakfast and stopped discussing research data with me. Instead, he devoted all his time and energy to celebrating Quinn securing the graduate-school slot.

I came across the photo he posted on his social media. Quinn was holding a cake, while he gazed at her with doting affection.

His caption read: [We’ve finally made it through the toughest of times. Congratulations to our small-town scholar.]

I scrolled past without a change in expression, then blocked him.

That afternoon, I was summoned to the dean’s office.

When I pushed open the door, Mom was sitting behind her desk.

I thought she might feel at least a little guilty. Maybe she’d even offer a few words of comfort, if only for appearances.

Instead, she didn’t so much as look up.

“Hand over the core data from your national-level research project. Make a copy for Quinn.”

I froze, certain I’d misheard her.

“What did you just say?”

She finally looked up, her brows drawing together.

“Quinn may have secured her graduate school program, but her thesis still needs work.

“Your project is a perfect fit for her research. Let her use your data, and she’ll be able to graduate with honors.”

I stared at her, a chill creeping through me. Suddenly, I was reminded of the year I took the SAT.

Desperate to make Mom proud, I’d pushed myself to the limit and become the city’s top science student.

When I was awarded prize money, I didn’t spend a cent on myself. Instead, I scrimped and saved to buy her an expensive silk scarf.

I’d been so excited to give it to her and held it out for her.

She didn’t praise me. She didn’t even try it on.

The very next day, I saw that scarf around Quinn’s neck.

When I confronted Mom, she didn’t even hesitate to defend herself.

“The color is too flashy. It doesn’t suit me. And poor Quinn has never had anything nice. It’s much better suited to her.

“You’re the city’s top student. Surely you can do without one scarf?”

She was right. I could do without it. So she could take away my spot in the graduate school program, too.

And now, she wanted to take the core data I’d poured my heart and soul into, data I’d earned at the cost of my health, and use it to pave the way for someone else.

“Mom.”

My eyes burned, and my voice trembled.

“I’m your daughter, too. Have you ever, even once, felt sorry for me all these years?”

Mom paused, caught off guard for a moment.

Then irritation took over. She slammed her hand against the desk.

“Leah, what is wrong with you now?

“You’ve always had the best of everything. Quinn can’t even afford a decent computer. Why are you so determined to hold that against her?

“As dean, it’s my responsibility to look out for every underprivileged student! And as my daughter, you should understand that better than anyone!

“If you keep being so selfish and petty, don’t you dare call me Mom again in the future!”

I looked at her furious face.

At last, I understood what all that talk of a loving mother-daughter bond, all her claims of being selfless and impartial, really meant.

I was nothing more than a prop she used to maintain her public image.

Tears welled in my eyes, but I forced them back.

I took a deep breath and wiped the corners of my eyes.

“Fine.

“Professor Shaw, I’ll hand over the data.”