Chapter 8 - The Apology They Wanted
The meeting took place in a room with a polished table and a portrait of the university’s founder.
Carmina arrived with two attorneys.
I arrived with Mateo, Professor Santos, and a diaper bag.
Liam stayed with a trusted colleague outside the room.
I hated being separated from him.
I hated that Carmina’s eyes followed the bag as if it were evidence against me.
A board member named Mr. Ortega slid a statement across the table.
“We want to avoid misunderstanding.”
I read the first sentence.
I regret the public confusion caused by unverified claims regarding the Carmina Educational Foundation.
“No.”
“You haven’t finished reading.”
“I’ve read enough.”
Dr. Cruz sat at the opposite end of the table.
He looked older than he had onstage.
Carmina folded her hands.
“I regret my comments.
I am willing to say so publicly.
In return, Bea clarifies that her mother’s allegations remain unsupported.”
Mateo leaned forward.
“She will not characterize evidence before it has been examined.”
“Evidence?” Carmina repeated.
“Stolen company papers?”
“My mother left records with the university president,” I said.
“If you believe they were stolen, report it.”
One of her attorneys touched her wrist.
She went quiet.
Mr. Ortega suggested a confidential settlement.
Then he mentioned my pending application to teach at the university’s partner school.
“It would be unfortunate if this dispute complicated your professional start.”
Professor Santos stood.
“Is that a threat?”
“It is advice.”
“Then give better advice.”
Dr. Cruz finally spoke.
“We will preserve university records and authorize an external audit.”
Carmina turned toward him.
“Do you understand the consequences?”
“Yes.”
But his voice wasn’t steady.
After the meeting, I asked him about that.
“What does she have over you?”
He looked toward the closed door.
“Several programs depend on her funding.”
“That’s what she has over the university.
What does she have over you?”
He didn’t answer.
I left angry.
In the hallway, Liam reached for me with both hands.
I held him so tightly that Professor Santos reminded me to breathe.
That afternoon, my teaching interview was canceled.
The email gave no reason.
An hour later, a post appeared online.
Young graduate exploits dead mother and infant to extort charitable foundation.
Beneath it were photographs from my graduation.
Someone had circled Liam’s face.
I reported the post and asked people to stop sharing it.
The comments kept multiplying.
Then Ruth called.
Her voice sounded scraped raw.
“They fired me.”
May you like
Before I could answer, she whispered something worse.
“And my daughter’s tuition payment was withdrawn.”
