Chapter 1

Week six of freshman year, the need-based grant recipients went up on the public list.

My name was in the very last row.

The night the list was posted, a new submission appeared on the campus confessions page.

"Ruth Sullivan, journalism, class of '21, applied for a need-based grant. She wears two-thousand-dollar sneakers, uses the newest iPhone, and buys Starbucks coffee."

"Is her family really poor?"

"The school should look into this."

Attached were a few photos, all taken without my knowledge.

The first: me in a pair of white designer sneakers, walking to the dining hall.

The second: me sitting in the study hall, an iPhone lying on the desk.

The third: me standing at the Starbucks by the campus gate, a coffee in my hand.

Once the post went up, the comments came flooding in.

"That's not a poor student, that's someone faking it to scam the grant."

"Two-thousand-dollar shoes. I can't even bring myself to buy those."

"Using an iPhone and still applying for aid? Where's the shame?"

"The school should revoke her eligibility and give the spot to someone who actually needs it."

"People like this are the worst. Sitting on a spot meant for the needy while living better than the rest of us."

My academic advisor, Ms. Joyner, messaged me.

"Ruth, come to the college office tomorrow morning. The school needs to verify your grant eligibility."

I stared at my phone screen and read through every last comment.

Then I opened the confessions page and posted a reply.

"Those shoes are fake."

"The phone is secondhand."

"The coffee is from my part-time job at Starbucks."

"I'll admit it. I did wear 'two-thousand-dollar shoes,' used 'the newest iPhone,' and drank 'Starbucks coffee.'"

"But since you all want to investigate, let's investigate this all the way."

"Tomorrow morning, the college office. Anyone who wants to watch is welcome."

1.

The next morning, the college office was packed.

Ms. Joyner sat behind the desk, and beside her was Mr. Dickerson, the staff member in charge of student financial aid.

Outside the door, a few girls had crowded in to watch.

Some held up their phones. Others whispered to each other.

"That's her..."

"She looks decent enough. Who'd have guessed she was this calculating, scamming a need-based grant spot."

"Right? Faking poverty for aid is bad enough, but getting caught and still doubling down?"

I listened to all of it without a flicker of panic.

I just stood in front of Ms. Joyner and set my backpack, full of evidence, on the desk.

"Ms. Joyner, Mr. Dickerson, I'm willing to go through the school's verification."

"But before we do, I'm asking you to trace the identity of the person who made that post."

Ms. Joyner frowned.

"Trace an anonymous poster?"

"Yes."

"The confessions page uses real-name registration on the backend. Only the administrators can see who submitted a post."

"I'm requesting that the school pull the confessions page's backend records."

"Because I have reason to believe this post was aimed at me on purpose."

"If she reported me, then she must have solid proof in hand. I want to confront her here, face to face."

The moment I said it, the students at the door erupted.

"She got caught and now she's crying targeted? Talk about dodging the blame."

"Right? The other person was clearly doing the right thing, fighting to give a real needy student a fair shot."

"Exactly, we need more people like that who stand up for justice!"

"Fine by me if they find her. A face-to-face would be way more satisfying anyway. Don't let her weasel out of it!"

That was when I saw a familiar figure hurrying back against the flow of the crowd.

She was wearing a mask, but I recognized her all the same.

My roommate, Lauren Pruitt.

The one I'd already guessed was behind that post.

I remembered it clearly.

The day the grant list went up, my two other roommates were happy for me, saying I finally wouldn't have to work myself to the bone anymore.

Only Lauren, while I was in the shower, was talking behind my back.

"Are you two stupid? You don't actually think Ruth is a poor student, do you? It's all fake."

She rattled off a whole string of made-up proof.

My phone. The coffee I drank. The shoes I wore.

Every single one matched the anonymous report exactly.

I watched her retreating back.

I laughed to myself, cold. She did it and thought she could just walk away. Dream on.

The monk may run, but the temple stays put.

I raised my voice right then.

"This isn't dodging blame. It's the truth."

"She is deliberately targeting me!"

"Because I have solid proof that I never falsified my personal information."

"And she, off nothing but three photos, decided I was a fraud. She never once asked me, never asked a teacher, and stirred up all of this to smear me through the court of public opinion!"

"If spreading rumors is this cheap, does that mean from now on anyone can just run to the campus page and report whoever they don't like?"

"Then what's left of the school's rules?"

When I finished, the whole office went quiet.

It was true.

If anyone could snap a few photos and claim someone else's records were faked,

then everyone would start doing the exact same thing.

Ms. Joyner made her decision on the spot.

"Ruth, you're right. I'll contact the campus page administrators now and have them reach the anonymous poster."

Lauren clearly hadn't expected the teacher to actually take my approach. Her movements as she pushed back through the crowd grew faster and faster.

But the person in charge of the campus page replied faster.

In under a minute, a QQ profile picture came through.

Just as she was about to slip away, someone recognized her from Ms. Joyner's screen share.

"I know that profile picture. Isn't that Lauren from our class?"

"Yeah, I added her too. It's Lauren's, the QQ number's exactly the same."

"If I remember right, she's Ruth's roommate, isn't she? God, she posted her own roommate on the confessions page. That's honestly kind of scary when you think about it."

Ms. Joyner didn't hesitate. She dialed Lauren's number immediately.

Lauren tried to power off her phone, but she was a step too slow.

A ringtone burst out of the crowd, sharp and sudden.

Everyone turned to follow the sound.

They even parted to clear a path.

I looked at her and spoke with a smile.

"Lauren, you're already here. Why are you running?"

"You went to all that trouble just to watch me get punished, didn't you? Running off now, don't you think that's a shame?"