Chapter 3

The phone screen had a thin crack.

I had to swipe twice before the post opened.

Chloe had posted my paper on the academy forum with the caption:

Didn't give up research even in the hospital. Finally finished.

The advisor asked below why she'd abandoned the original formula in the third set of experiments.

She answered: It didn't work well.

The advisor asked again: if it didn't work well, why was the final data still from that set?

She didn't answer.

Further down, the advisor uploaded the revision history.

Every version had a date. Every version had my name on it.

The comments had already exploded into hundreds.

Some demanded the academy strip Chloe of her outstanding student title. Others asked how much of the work she'd submitted over the years was actually her own.

"She's fainted twice."

Damian took the phone from my hand.

"Why did your advisor have to post this now? She's testing medicine tomorrow!"

"So what?"

"Go explain it clearly."

My father frowned.

"Your sister is sick. Where would she get the energy to deal with this? You're healthy. What's wrong with taking a little hardship?"

I looked at Damian's hand holding Chloe's.

Five years ago, I was thrown out of the house and waited all night in the rain.

When Damian found me, the first thing he did was take off his coat and wrap it around me.

He said that as long as he was there, no one would ever throw me out again.

But later, he gradually leaned toward Chloe too.

Our dinners had an extra set of cutlery. Our anniversary trips had an extra plane ticket.

I asked him why.

He said, "She's just your sister. Can't you even tolerate her?"

Now he stood in front of my sister, waiting for me to admit I was wrong.

"Fine. I'll explain."

My mother immediately took the tissue away from the corner of her eye.

"Say you read your sister's draft first. Don't let people misunderstand."

Chloe added quietly.

"But the advisor already posted the revision history..."

The room went quiet.

I took the phone.

"Then I'll say I used your ideas."

Damian's brow relaxed.

"Calm this down first. We'll deal with the rest later."

Chloe turned on the recording. The camera pointed at me.

I looked down at my pajamas.

The collar had been pulled crooked earlier.

I buttoned it properly.

"Ready."

In the video, I admitted I'd read Chloe's draft. I admitted the research direction came from her. I admitted the version the advisor saw couldn't prove she plagiarized.

Halfway through, Chloe said my voice was too quiet and made me start over.

I said it again.

Before uploading, my mother checked the wording and changed "we discussed it together" to "she shared it with me."

"That makes it clearer."

After the video went up, my advisor called.

I declined it.

He sent a message.

[Think carefully. This statement will destroy your graduation qualifications.]

I stared at it for a long time and replied.

[Professor, I'm sorry.]

Damian reached over and straightened my collar.

"Don't be afraid. After the trial, I'll handle it."

His fingers brushed the back of my neck.

"Next full moon, I'll make up the marking ceremony for you. That lake you like, I've already had people look at the venue."

In the past, I would have chased him for a date.

This time I just said, "Okay."

My mother showed her phone to my father.

"See? Someone's already speaking up for Chloe."

My sister moved closer to me. Under the pretense of wiping her tears, she leaned in and whispered.

"The paper is mine. Mom and Dad are mine."

She glanced at Damian.

"Even he chose me."

I pulled the corner of my clothes out of her hand.

"Yeah. You win."

She looked up, as if still searching for something in my face.

My mother had already pulled her back into her arms.

Damian lowered his head to delete the insulting comments for her.

My phone rang again.

This time, Damian silenced it for me.