I Exposed My Stepsister’s Stolen Elite University Life Chapter 06

I Exposed My Stepsister’s Stolen Elite University Life Chapter 06

The video opened on a modest office.

My former Year 12 teacher, Mr. Grant, sat behind his desk. His hair had turned grey, and he held a yellowed academic record in his hands.

“My name is Thomas Grant. I was Nora Whitaker’s Legal Studies teacher and year adviser during her final year of secondary school.”

His voice was slightly hoarse but perfectly clear.

“This is the complete Year 12 results register our school retained for the cohort that graduated ten years ago.”

The camera zoomed in on the page in his hands.

At the top of the list was Nora Whitaker, ranked first in her year.

English Advanced: 96. Mathematics Advanced: 98. Legal Studies: 99. Modern History: 97. Economics: 95. ATAR: 99.85.

“Nora was one of the most gifted and hardworking students I encountered in thirty years of teaching.”

Mr. Grant adjusted his reading glasses, his eyes glistening.

“She always knew exactly what she wanted. Her dream was to study law at Westbridge University and become a lawyer who fought for justice.”

“When the HSC results and ATARs were released, she had the third-highest ATAR in the entire region. Everyone believed she had an extraordinary future ahead of her.”

“None of us ever imagined that someone would steal that future from her.”

Mr. Grant’s voice broke.

“Over the past ten years, I have often wondered what Nora might have achieved if she had been allowed to attend university. I have no doubt that she would have been every bit as successful as anyone else.”

“The people who stole her future did not merely take the university place she had earned. They took away every dream and every hope she had for her future.”

By the time that part of the video ended, the studio had fallen completely silent.

The live chat froze for several seconds before erupting.

[A 99.85 ATAR? Third in the entire region? Damn, she was brilliant!]

[So she didn’t refuse to enrol? Someone really stole her university place?]

[This is insane. How could something like this happen?]

Madison’s face had turned as white as paper. She stared at me, her lips trembling.

“Where… where did you get that?”

I did not answer.

The real show had only just begun.

The studio’s main screen shifted to a completely different scene, revealing grey walls, a barred window, and a man in prison clothing.

It was a visiting room inside a correctional centre.

A haggard man in his fifties appeared on the screen, his wrists cuffed in front of him.

“My name is Curtis Vance. I’m serving a fifteen-year sentence for fraud and document forgery.”

He raised his head and looked into the camera. His eyes were filled with fear and remorse.

“Ten years ago, a woman named Diane Whitaker was referred to me through an acquaintance. She wanted me to create a fraudulent student and admissions file so her daughter could take her stepdaughter’s university place.”

“She paid me fifty thousand dollars.”

“I let greed get the better of me, and I agreed.”

“I used my contacts and spent thirty thousand dollars paying off the right people. I accessed Nora’s electronic school and admissions records, then transferred her HSC results, ATAR, application materials, and university offer into a fraudulent file under Madison Whitaker’s legal identity.”

“I replaced the photograph and contact details with Madison’s. Then I produced a matching Westbridge University offer letter in her name and sent it to their home.”

Curtis’s voice shook, as though he could barely force himself to remember what he had done.

“I thought the whole thing was airtight. I believed no one would ever find out.”

“Then, a few days ago, someone tracked me down in prison.”

He paused and raised his head. His gaze seemed to pass through the screen and settle directly on someone inside the studio.

At the end of the video, he looked into the camera and spoke slowly, emphasising every word.

“Madison Whitaker, you said on television that the criminals you hate most are the ones who steal another person’s life.”

“So what about me, the man who helped you commit that crime?”

“Do you hate me too?”