My Roommate Called My Dad My Sugar Daddy? Oops, There Goes Her Fellowship Chapter 10

My Roommate Called My Dad My Sugar Daddy? Oops, There Goes Her Fellowship Chapter 10

The university eventually announced Claire’s punishment.

She was placed on disciplinary probation.

Her alternate status was revoked.

She was ordered to repay the aid she had improperly received.

The research paper was removed from her fellowship record, and an academic-misconduct case was

opened.

She was barred from university awards for the rest of the academic year.

The allegations involving forged documents, identity misuse, and defamation were referred to law enforcement and the appropriate legal process.

The day she came to move out of our room, I was in my new dorm putting books away.

She stood in the doorway and watched me.

“Nora, are you satisfied?”

I looked up.

“No.”

She went still.

I said it calmly.

“Because the damage you caused did not disappear when the university issued its decision.”

“I should have been able to wait for the fellowship decision without defending my character.”

“I should have been able to carry the gift my parents gave me without shame.”

“I shouldn’t have had to walk across campus with people pointing at me.”

“None of that can be undone.”

Claire bit her lip.

“But you still have the fellowship.”

“You have everything.”

I looked at her.

“What I have, I earned. What my family gave me was given openly and honestly.”

“None of it is a reason for you to take it from me.”

She was silent for a long time.

At last, she said quietly, “If I had asked you at the very beginning to give me the spot, would you have?”

I said, “No.”

She looked up at me.

“So I had no choice but to fight for it myself.”

I laughed.

“That was not fighting for an opportunity.”

“That was trying to destroy someone else.”

She had no answer.

The day the fellowship decision was finalized in the portal, I sat at my computer for a long time.

The screen read: [Award Confirmed.]

My name appeared on the final recipient list.

In that moment, I did not feel the rush of joy I had imagined.

I felt only the exhaustion that came when everything was finally over.

It had taken four years.

I had sat through eight a.m. lectures.

I had revised papers at two in the morning.

I had torn apart and rebuilt my competition projects over and over.

I had organized application records until my eyes blurred.

I had earned my place one step at a time.

This should have been a simple celebration.

Instead, a cropped photo, an edited recording, and a few claims of “I’m only worried about you” had dragged

my achievement through the mud.

I had nearly been forced to prove that no man was secretly financing me.

I had not taken a shortcut.

My parents loving me was not a crime.

And my family’s wealth was not a reason for someone else to take what I had earned.

That evening, my parents and my brother came to take me to dinner.

It was the same hotel.

My mother asked, “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

I shook my head.

“Here is fine.”

I carried the bag.

I did not carry it to show off.

I carried it to remind myself that I had no reason to feel ashamed of something that was rightfully mine.

The lights at the hotel entrance were bright.

As I walked inside, the weight I had carried for weeks finally began to lift.

In the private dining room, the cake was already on the table.

The message on it read: [The Best Is Yet to Come.]

My mother served food onto my plate.

“From now on, carry it whenever you want.”

“Your father and I gave it to you, and you don’t have to be afraid of what anyone says.”

My throat went tight.

“Okay.”

My father said:

“You handled this very well.”

“Being angry was understandable, but you never let it control you.”

“Remember, some people are betting that you’re afraid of trouble, afraid of embarrassment, afraid somebody

will say you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“The more you retreat, the further they will push.”

My brother held up his juice.

“To my sister. Good luck in grad school, and stay away from toxic people.”

I laughed out loud.

Even as I laughed, my eyes burned.

It was not a weakness.

It meant I could finally admit how much the last few weeks had hurt.

Afterward, I moved into the new dorm.

From my window, I could see the lights of the library.

Zoe messaged me: [I’m sorry. I almost got swept along at the start.]

Hallie messaged too: [I’m never blindly following campus gossip again. I’ll back you up whenever you need

me.]

I sent them the same reply: [Just remember what happened.]

I did not say it was fine.

Because even that brief moment of doubt had hurt me.

But I had also learned to distinguish between people briefly misled by a lie and the person who deliberately

started it.

Long afterward, I still sometimes thought about what Claire had said.

“You have everything, so why can’t you give it to me?”

By then, my answer was simple.

Because I earned my place one step at a time.

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It was late.

One library window after another glowed in the dark.

I closed my laptop and opened the fellowship confirmation page one more time.

My name was still there, unmistakable.

No one was going to take away the future I had earned for myself.