Chapter 4

Dad posted a photo.

It showed my birth certificate torn in half, the edges ripped and jagged.

He captioned it, [Go make a scene at the admissions office again, and your ID is next.]

I saved screenshots of everything.

That night, Mom went live on social media.

She sat on the living room couch, crying. "My daughter did so well on her SAT, and our whole family was thrilled. But she insists on going out of state.

"She looks down on us for being poor, and she thinks her little brother is holding her back. All we wanted was for her to stay close to home and have a stable job, but now she wants to sue her own parents and her counselor..."

The number of viewers climbed quickly.

Some people called me an ungrateful brat. Some said high scores meant nothing if I had no morals. A few asked whether the parents had tampered with the applications.

Mom immediately cried even harder. "She wasn't feeling well, so she's the one who asked us to help her confirm it. Now she's gone back on it..."

I watched the screen, and my palms went cold.

This was their second move. They were turning me from being the victim into an ungrateful daughter.

The next day, I went to the county admissions office to submit my documents.

Before I even reached the door, Uncle Wayne and two other relatives blocked my way.

He grabbed the strap of my backpack. "You actually had the nerve to show up?"

I shook him off. "Let go."

He jabbed a finger in my face. "Your parents have been through enough, yet you want to send them to jail? Callie, do you have no conscience at all?"

Dad walked up from behind. His voice was not loud, but it was menacing. "Come home with me."

"No."

"Don't push me."

He reached out to grab my arm. Someone nearby started filming on their phone.

Suddenly, I noticed the handle of a pair of scissors sticking out of his pocket.

I took a step back and called 911. "I'm outside the county admissions office. Someone is stopping me from submitting a review request after my college applications were tampered with, and they're threatening to restrain me."

Dad's face turned livid. "You're calling the cops on your own father?"

I looked at him. "You had the nerve to steal my future. Why wouldn't I have the nerve to call the cops?"

In a conference room at the police station, my parents, Uncle Wayne, and Mr. Ormsby had all shown up.

The officer first asked what had happened.

I laid out my evidence one piece at a time. "This is the screen recording of me confirming my applications myself before the deadline.

"This is the screenshot of my original applications, with the timestamp from when I sent it to my email.

"This is my public statement in the class group chat, where I made it clear that no one was allowed to fill out or change my applications for me.

"This is the record of my message to the state admissions office hotline.

"These are my check-in, payment, and observation records from the urgent care clinic.

"This is the receipt for my request for the clinic's security footage. It proves I was at the clinic when my applications were changed."

When I finished, the room went silent for a few seconds.

Mom started crying again. "Officer, she had a stomachache and she was dizzy. She's the one who told us to have her counselor help make sure everything was safe. We're just parents. What do we know about those systems?"

Dad chimed in immediately. "That's right. We're not educated people. Mr. Ormsby was the one who looked everything over. Now some classmate has gotten in her head, and she's insisting we're out to hurt her."

Mr. Ormsby sat up very straight. "Officer, as her guidance counselor, I only offered advice. The application portal requires the student's password and a verification code. I can't just change things whenever I want."

He was far too composed. It was as if he had rehearsed this.

"Callie did express some concerns before. She was worried Calvert University's admission standards might shift. I suggested she consider the local teaching contract program to play it safe."

I looked at him. "When did I ever express any concerns?"

He frowned. "You might have forgotten. We talked about it the day you came back to school after graduation."

"Is there a record of that?"

"Why would anyone record a conversation between a student and a counselor?"

I gave a small laugh. "Then do you have any proof that I authorized you to make changes?"

His expression darkened. "Callie, I don't want to argue with you about this. Right now, the most important thing is for you to calm down. Don't turn a family matter into a public scandal."

A family matter? Hearing those words made my chest tighten.

Just then, someone knocked on the conference room door.

A woman's voice came from the doorway. "Having someone illegally change your college applications is not a family matter."