Now, I start typing the truth:
King:
Ivy, there's something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you from the beginning. King isn't who you think he is. I'm not who you think I am. I've been lying to you since the day we met, and you deserve to know why. Let’s meet up so I can explain.
My thumb hovers over the screen, but I can’t press send.
Not like this.
I have to make sure Ivy doesn’t leave when I tell her.
Tomorrow, I’ll plan something romantic that will capture Ivy’s heart. I’ll spend the next week supporting her, wooing her.
Then, I’ll tell her everything.
23
IVY
The Truth Unravels
My phone buzzes with a text from King as I'm walking into the hearing room that will decide my entire future.
King:
You've got this. You're stronger than you know.
I silence my phone and slip it into my bag, trying to stop my hand from trembling as I step into the Metropolitan University hearing room and sit. Five faculty members sit across from me at a long mahogany table, their expressions ranging from sympathetic to impassive.
Dr. O'Connell sits beside me, her salt-and-pepper hair pulled back severely. She has a fierce, determined look on her face.
Dean Whitfield clears his throat and adjusts his wire-rimmed glasses. He's in his fifties, with a weathered face and tired look.
"Dr. Chandler, thank you for coming. We've spent the past week reviewing the allegations against you." He folds his hands on the table. "Before we share our findings, is there anything you'd like to add to your defense?"
My throat is dry. Taking a sip of water from the plastic cup in front of me, I breathe in deeply to remain calm.
"Yes." My voice comes out steady, thankfully. "That video was manipulated. Someone edited it to destroy my credibility and my research."
I slide a thick folder across the table. Dean Whitfield opens it, and the other committee members lean in.
"Inside, you'll find the original security footage from the Raptors facility. The timestamps don't match what was in the viral video. They're off by hours in some places." I point to the second section. "There's also an audio forensics report. An independent expert analyzed the sound and confirmed it was spliced together from different recordings. Finally, there’s a written statement from our own digital media expert, confirming the video is fake."
The dean goes through the files and passes on to the committee member seating beside him. They keep passing it on until every member has gone through the papers. Dr. Imani Raymond, a bio mechanics professor I've admired for years, goes through the papers again. She flips through the pages, her expression shifting from skeptical to surprised.
"This is very thorough, Dr. Chandler."
"I had to be. Someone went to a lot of trouble to make me look guilty." I keep my voice level despite the anger simmering beneath.
Dean Whitfield studies the forensics report, his frown deepening.
"We also had your research data independently reviewed by external experts. Your methodology is sound. Your baseline cognitive assessments are scientifically rigorous."
Intense relief floods through me. "So I'm cleared?"
"Yes." Dr. Raymond's tone softens. "We're reinstating you immediately. You have full academic standing. Your record will reflect that these charges were false."
I close my eyes briefly, letting the words sink in. After weeks of hell, I'm finally cleared.
