Chương 6
“The letter says past performance,” Elena said.
Margaret leaned back. “It does.”
Mr. Greene looked toward her. “Margaret.”
“She is correct.”
The room grew still.
Margaret folded her hands. “The award criteria were satisfied before graduation. We did not provide recipients with a conduct agreement. We cannot retroactively create one because an event drew attention.”
Adrian watched her, suspicious of how much he wanted to believe the words.
Mr. Greene closed the folder. “There is also the issue of the fundraiser.”
“I didn’t create it.”
“Fourteen thousand dollars has been raised using your name and the foundation scholarship announcement.”
“I asked the platform to freeze it.”
Ms. Patel slid across copies of the complaint confirmation.
Denise Carter read the first page. “This supports that.”
The attorney on the phone asked, “Has Mr. Cole accepted any media payment?”
“No,” Adrian said.
“Signed any representation agreement?”
“No.”
“Agreed to interviews?”
“No.”
His phone vibrated in his pocket as if objecting.
Mr. Greene conferred quietly with the attorney. The words liability and reputation were audible.
Elena watched Margaret Bell.
Adrian watched everyone.
At last, Mr. Greene said the scholarship would remain active while the board completed its review. A decision would come within ten business days.
“That takes us past Northern Ohio State’s deposit deadline,” Elena said.
“We can provide a letter explaining the delay.”
“The university does not accept explanations in place of money.”
Dr. Wu looked at Mr. Greene. “A provisional guarantee would solve that.”
The attorney objected through the phone.
The room dissolved into procedure.
Adrian listened for five minutes, then stood.
Every head turned.
“I need to feed my daughter at four,” he said.
Mr. Greene checked the clock as if the baby’s schedule might be negotiable.
Adrian continued. “You gave me the scholarship because I earned it. If I broke a written rule, show me. If I didn’t, stop using words like precedent because you don’t want to say you’re scared of bad attention.”
“Adrian,” Ms. Patel warned.
He looked at Margaret.
“I shouldn’t have used the microphone without asking. I understand that. But my daughter is not a scandal, and my mother is not advocacy.”
Margaret held his gaze.
“No,” she said quietly. “They are not.”
In the elevator, Elena pressed the lobby button twice.
“You were doing well,” she said.
“I think I still did well.”
“You accused five scholarship trustees of cowardice.”
“One of them agreed.”
“That does not improve it.”
Ms. Patel leaned against the mirrored wall. “He was not entirely wrong.”
Elena turned. “Please do not encourage him.”
“I am not. I am observing.”
The elevator descended one floor and stopped. No one entered.
Adrian looked at their reflections. Elena’s black dress had been replaced by navy slacks and a cream blouse. She looked tired in a way makeup could not fix.
“I meant what I said,” he told her.
“About the foundation?”
“Onstage.”
Elena stared at the closing doors. “I know.”
The doors opened to the lobby.
A reporter waited beside the circulation desk.
He was younger than Adrian expected, maybe thirty, with a messenger bag and a phone held at his side. He did not raise it.
“Adrian Cole?”
Ms. Patel stepped between them. “This is a private meeting.”
“I’m Daniel Reyes with Channel Eight. I’m not recording.”
“Then you will not mind leaving.”
The reporter looked at Adrian. “The foundation reviewing your scholarship is a public-interest story.”
“How did you know?” Adrian asked.
Elena closed her eyes briefly.
Reyes said, “Two board members arrived through the front entrance. Someone recognized them.”
“That doesn’t explain how you knew what they were meeting about.”
“No.”
“Who told you?”
“I can’t identify a source.”
“Then you don’t get to ask me questions.”
Reyes accepted that with a nod. “The fundraiser organizer has changed the beneficiary information twice. You should know that.”
Adrian stopped.
“What does that mean?”
“It means the money may not be coming to you.”
Ms. Patel’s expression sharpened. “What evidence do you have?”
“Screenshots from donors and archived versions of the page.”
The reporter opened his bag slowly and removed several printed pages.
Elena took them.
The original fundraiser named Adrian as beneficiary. The latest version said proceeds would support “young fathers through partner organizations,” none of which were identified.
“There’s more,” Reyes said. “The organizer used photographs of your baby taken from private social-media accounts.”
Adrian looked at the grainy image. Maya sat in a hospital bed holding Lucy less than an hour after the birth.
Maya had posted it to a private account visible only to friends.
“Who gave you this?”
“A donor sent it after the page changed.”
Adrian folded the paper once, then again.
“Can you help get it removed?” he asked.
“I can report on it. That usually gets the platform’s attention.”
“And puts the picture on television.”
“It does not have to include the photograph.”
Elena handed the pages to Ms. Patel.
“What do you want in return?” she asked.
“An interview.”
“No.”
“Mom.”
“No.”
Reyes did not argue. “My card is on the last page. You should contact the state attorney general’s consumer office. The platform may also require proof of identity to release or return funds.”
Adrian gave a bitter laugh. “So I have to send identification to prove I didn’t ask strangers for money.”
“That is often how fraud complaints work.”
He hated the calmness of the answer because it sounded true.
By Friday, Adrian had learned that virality created chores.
He filled out fraud reports. He sent scanned identification through a secure portal after Ms. Patel confirmed the address. He asked friends to remove photographs of Lucy. Half apologized. Two argued that their posts were “raising awareness.” One said Adrian was ungrateful because the clip had gained him followers.
He blocked that friend and felt childish for five minutes, then relieved.
May you like
Maya deleted her accounts.
Rachel Bennett blamed Adrian for the photograph spreading, then apologized when Maya reminded her that one of Rachel’s cousins had reposted it. Maya’s father suggested calling the police. The local police referred them to the platform and the attorney general. The attorney general’s office sent an automated response promising review in the order received.
