This is why women don't belong in sports research
Bet she's sleeping with half the team
Marcus Chandler's sister using nepotism to falsify data. Why am I not surprised?
Each comment cuts through me.
My phone buzzes for the hundredth time. It's another unknown number. I silence it without looking, adding it to the pile of media requests, hate messages, and concerned calls from colleagues who are really just fishing for gossip.
The only person not calling is Declan. It's been days since the world started crumbling, yet there has been radio silence from the man who said he loved me. Who made promises about figuring things out together and swore I mattered.
I've texted and called numerous times, leaving voicemails that started out professional and devolved into desperation.
There's been no reply as if the past two months were fiction. Like he got what he wanted and disappeared the moment it became inconvenient.
My laptop dings with an email notification. The subject line makes my stomach drop:
“SUSPENSION NOTICE - METROPOLITAN UNIVERSITY”
The text is bureaucratic and cold:
Pending investigation into ethical violations, your postdoctoral research position is hereby suspended withoutpay. Your facility access has been revoked. All ongoing research projects are frozen until the ethics board reaches a conclusion.
Postdoctoral position. The words should sting less because I already have my doctorate and Dr. Ivy Chandler exists regardless of what happens next. But this position was my future: publishing opportunities, grant funding, the foundation for a tenure-track career. Without it, I'm just another PhD swimming in an over-saturated market with a scandal attached to my name.
My phone rings. Dr. O'Connell's name appears on the screen.
Not wanting to hear the disappointment in her voice, I almost don't answer. But she's been my champion since I was an undergraduate intern in her lab, and I owe her at least this.
"Ivy." Her voice is tight with fury. "Tell me you got the email."
"I got it."
"It's rubbish. Anyone with basic video forensics skills can see that the footage is edited. The lighting's wrong and the timestamp doesn't match facility logs." She's breathing more rapidly than usual, as if she's pacing. "I've already contacted two independent experts. We'll prove it's fake."
"How long will that take?"
There's a long pause.
"Weeks. Maybe months. The ethics board moves slowly, and the university is more interested in protecting its reputation than..." She stops. "I'm fighting for you. But you need to prepare for the possibility that this gets worse before it gets better."
Worse?
This is already rock bottom. I'm hiding in my apartment while reporters camp outside. My landlord has been sending increasingly urgent emails about 'the disruption to other tenants,' while my career burns and Declan stays silent.
"Thank you for fighting," I say dejectedly.
"Always. You're the best researcher I've ever mentored. I'm not letting them destroy you without a war." Another pause. "Have you heard from Declan?"
Sharp pain fills my chest. "No."
"That bastard. After everything, he just disappeared?"
The venom in her voice is startling. Dr. O'Connell is normally composed, professional, the calm eye in any academic storm.
"Yeah," I say weakly, feeling resigned while tears fill my eyes.
"Men." She spits the word like a curse. "Listen, you need to get out of your apartment. The media presence isn't going to die down, and you can't live under siege. Have you chosen where to go?"
