Chapter 4

A wave of mockery swept through the crowd.

That text was the final nail in the coffin.

Serena stood up, her smeared makeup making her look like a monster.

"You arrogant bitch! Why do you get to have everything? The Chancellor’s daughter, gorgeous, and even Julian..."

She froze, realizing she had just admitted to the affair on a live stream. She slapped her hands over her mouth.

A heavy silence descended on the hall.

I looked at her calmly and spoke into the mic.

"I have 'everything' because my lab lights were on until 3 AM every single night. Because I spent four consecutive Thanksgivings running data in a cold basement. Because the amount of coffee I've chugged could fill this entire hall."

A single clap started in the corner, and within seconds, a standing ovation swept through the room.

Many young researchers in the crowd had tears in their eyes. They knew exactly how much sacrifice those words carried.

My father walked back onto the stage, standing firmly by my side.

He looked out at the audience.

"As the Chancellor of this institution, I promise a thorough investigation. As a father," his voice cracked slightly, "I have never been prouder of my daughter."

The ceremony resumed. When the chairman placed the trophy in my hands, the spotlight was so bright I could barely see.

In the back, Serena was being dragged out.

As she passed the stage, she glared at me, her eyes filled with pure poison.

"You think you won? Julian never loved you. Every time he came back from a date with you, he came straight to my bed..."

At the after-party, I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, holding a glass of champagne. My phone was blowing up with congratulations.

But Julian’s text message still lingered on my screen.

"He chose to save himself, not you," a voice said from behind.

I turned around. My father was walking over, holding a glass of wine.

"Did you know?" I asked.

"I had my suspicions. Julian started buying luxury items he couldn't afford on an associate professor's salary, and Serena’s family... is incredibly wealthy."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"I tried."

My father took a sip. "I told you, 'Julian has decent academic skills, but you need to observe his character more.' Remember what you said?"

I paused.

Three months ago, I had excitedly told my dad that I had found my academic soulmate.

"You said, 'Dad, you always think the worst of people.'"

My father mimicked my tone, a gentle, teasing smile in his eyes.

My phone vibrated again. Julian’s name flashed on the screen.

My father patted my shoulder. "Want me to handle it?"

I shook my head and powered off the device.

"The academic circle is small," my father said softly. "They will never work in this field again."

"Because of your influence?"

"Because of you."

My father clinked his glass against mine. "After today, no one will ever question Chloe Sterling’s brilliance. Even without me as your father, you have proven exactly who you are."

After the gala ended, I walked back to my hotel alone.

The cool night breeze washed away the slight buzz of the alcohol.

I turned my phone back on, and dozens of messages flooded in.

Ignoring them all, I opened my email and drafted a new message.

Recipient: The Editorial Board of Nature.

Subject: Amended Author Contribution Statement.

I detailed the exact contribution of each phase of the algorithm, attaching all Git commit logs and raw data.

At the very end, I wrote:

"Scientific progress is built on absolute honesty. I voluntarily relinquish my status as the sole corresponding author to accurately reflect the collaborative nature of the early stages."

When I hit send, my fingers didn't tremble at all.

The streetlights stretched my shadow long across the pavement.

I knew tomorrow would bring more questions and debates.

But looking up, I saw a sky full of clear, bright stars.

Back in my hotel room, I brewed a cup of black tea and sat by the window, looking out over the city lights.

The email to Nature showed as "Read," but there was no reply yet.

My phone screen lit up with the lab's WhatsApp group chat exploding with memes.

Someone had screenshotted the live stream of me locking Serena’s wrist, turning it into a GIF with the caption: “Who needs security when you have a PhD in self-defense?”