Chapter 2 · Sign the Confession

Dean Caldwell locked the ballroom doors before anyone could leave.

That was his first mistake.

His second was thinking locked doors still mattered when half the room had already filmed him pulling the cable.

“Phones away,” he ordered. “This is now an internal university matter.”

Nobody obeyed.

Professor Wren stood beside the laptop with Julian Reyes’s email open. Sophie remained onstage, one hand pressed to the medal as if she could hold the lie in place.

Ethan stood between me and Dean.

Again.

“Ava,” he said. “Stop before this gets worse.”

“For Sophie?”

“For you.”

I laughed. “You had a chance to choose me ten minutes ago.”

His face tightened.

Dean pointed toward the side hall. “Conference suite. Now. Miss Hart, Professor Wren, Mr. Vale, Miss Blackwell.”

“No private meeting,” I said.

Dean smiled without warmth. “Then no appeal.”

There it was.

The same trap as last time. Obey quietly, or lose everything loudly.

So I walked.

Not because I trusted them.

Because Professor Wren carried the sealed U drive, and every step down that hallway was recorded on my phone.

In the glass conference room, Dean slid a cream-colored form across the table.

Voluntary Statement of Responsibility.

My name was already typed at the bottom.

Ava Marie Hart.

In my last life, Ethan guided the pen into my hand.

Just sign it for now, he had whispered. We’ll fix it after the board calms down.

We never fixed it.

This time, I picked up the paper and tore it in half.

Then again.

Then again.

Dean’s face went blank.

I dropped the pieces on the table.

“You had that ready before I accused her.”

Professor Wren leaned forward. “Dean Caldwell, why was a confession prepared in advance?”

Dean ignored him. “Miss Hart is emotional.”

“I’m recording.”

The room stilled.

I put my phone on the table. The red dot blinked between us.

Then I pressed play.

Dean’s voice filled the glass room.

If Ava refuses the private withdrawal, freeze her lab access and send the violation notice. Sophie cannot be challenged before the donors arrive.

Then Sophie’s voice.

And Ethan?

Dean again.

Mr. Vale understands what is at stake.

The recording ended.

Ethan turned slowly toward Sophie.

She looked at him with wet eyes. “I was scared.”

I leaned forward. “Of what? That I’d ask you what Variable Three does?”

Sophie’s lips parted.

Professor Wren looked at her. “Answer.”

“I don’t have to perform under attack.”

“It is the simplest authorship test,” he said.

Dean shut the folder. “This meeting is over.”

He grabbed the torn confession pieces and moved toward the shred bin.

I stepped in front of him.

“Move,” he said.

I raised the phone.

Still recording.

Behind him, Ethan finally spoke.

“Dean.”

Dean turned.

Ethan’s voice was rough. “Why are you afraid of Northbridge?”

Sophie’s head snapped toward him. “Ethan, don’t.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Everyone heard it.

The conference door opened.

A student media assistant stood there, breathless, holding a tablet.

“Professor Wren, the gala clip is everywhere.”

Dean snapped, “You had no permission to enter.”

She ignored him.

“The Northbridge Institute account just commented from a verified profile.”

Professor Wren took the tablet and read aloud.

“Northbridge confirms receipt of Ava Hart’s original submission prior to Ashbourne’s award announcement. We request immediate preservation of all server logs.”

Dean reached for the back of a chair.

Sophie’s face went white.

My phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

I answered on speaker.

A man’s voice came through, calm and clipped.

“Miss Hart, this is Julian Reyes from Northbridge. Do not hand your drive to anyone from Ashbourne. I’m outside the east gate.”

Dean said, “Hang up.”

I looked at him.

“No.”