My Best Friend Framed Me for Stealing Her FutureChapter 2

That night, the street outside our house never quieted down.

People rang the doorbell. Others stood on the sidewalk with signs. Someone threw more eggs at the garage.

My mother sat on the living-room couch without saying a word.

My father pulled the blinds shut.

“Sloane.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes.”

I set my phone on the coffee table.

It was full of messages from strangers.

[Thief.]

[Hawthorne should rescind your admission.]

[If something happens to Mia, your whole family deserves what comes next.]

My father’s face went pale as he read them.

“The lawyers are already saving every message, post, and video.”

My mother suddenly looked up.

“Your uncle was just told he has to undergo an independent review.”

“And now the press has cornered Ms. Carter too.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Ms. Carter?”

I opened the news app.

Sure enough, Samantha Carter, Northbridge’s college counselor, had just spoken to a local station.

A reporter asked, “Between Sloane and Mia, who would you say was the stronger Humanities student?”

Ms. Carter answered carefully.

“Mia has consistently been one of the strongest humanities students I’ve worked with.”

“Sloane’s academic strengths have long been concentrated in STEM.”

“As for either student’s specific grades or application records, I’m not authorized to disclose them.”

She never said I cheated or even suggested the Avery result was wrong.

But within half an hour, the headline read:

SLOANE’S OWN COUNSELOR ADMITS MIA WAS STRONGER

The comments piled on immediately.

[Even the counselor is saying it.]

[How much power does this family have?]

[This is basically confirmed.]

My mother started crying.

The next morning, the sidewalk outside the Avery Foundation headquarters was packed with reporters.

The foundation had announced overnight that an outside compliance team and independent auditors would oversee the review.

Mia and I both signed limited releases allowing only the academic, application, and review records directly related to the dispute to be examined publicly.

At 9:20 a.m., Mia stepped out of a car with her mother supporting her.

She looked pale.

The press rushed her immediately.

“Mia, are you well enough to be here?”

Her eyes reddened.

“Even if I’m not, I have to be.”

“If I don’t show up today, I’m afraid the truth will get buried.”

Someone pushed a microphone toward her.

“What would you like to say to Sloane?”

Mia looked over as I got out of my car.

“Sloane.”

“If our four years of friendship ever meant anything to you, tell the truth today.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“I just want you to tell the truth.”

I walked up to her.

“I’ve been honest the entire time.”

Lisa shrieked.

“Mia is barely holding herself together and you’re still provoking her?”

I ignored her and headed for the entrance.

Behind me, Mia suddenly raised her voice.

“Sloane!”

“You think all I have is one application packet?”

I stopped.

She lifted a folder.

“These are my official grades from the last two years.”

“AP English Literature: A.”

“AP U.S. History: A.”

“AP Government: A.”

“First place in a statewide writing competition.”

“Captain of the Speech and Debate Team.”

Then she looked directly at me.

“And you?”

“You got a C in AP U.S. History.”

“Are you seriously going to stand there and say you didn’t take my Avery opportunity?”

Every camera turned toward me.

I looked back.

“Yes.”

Mia clenched her jaw.

“Then are you willing to let the entire internet see your full application record?”

I smiled.

“Absolutely.”

The conference room was already full.

Representatives from the Avery Foundation’s executive committee.

Outside compliance counsel.

Independent IT auditors.

Northbridge officials.

Lawyers for both sides.

And selected members of the media.

Livestream cameras faced the front of the room, and the viewer count climbed by the second.

Mia sat across from me.

Her face was pale, but her back was perfectly straight.

Lisa stood behind her, dabbing at her eyes.

“My daughter is on financial aid. She’s worked for every opportunity she’s had.”

“Why does it still have to be this hard?”

A reporter turned to me.

“Sloane, are you under a lot of pressure right now?”

“No.”

The livestream comments exploded.