Chapter 4 - The Scramble of the Golden BoyWith Arthur shoved into the back of the federal SUV and Victoria sobbing hysterically against Julian’s shoulder, the courtyard plunged into a surreal, vibrating silence.
The graduation ceremony was officially paused, but nobody was leaving. Thousands of pairs of eyes remained fixed on the stage, waiting to see what I would do next.
I didn't step down immediately. I turned back to the microphone.
"Before we resume the ceremony," I announced, my voice steady and commanding, "there is one more name associated with these financial crimes that needs to be addressed for the public record."
Julian’s head snapped up.
Up until that second, Julian had hoped—against all mathematical and legal odds—that he might slip through the cracks. He was the younger sibling, the golden child shielded by parental indulgence. He thought his involvement would be brushed aside as youthful ignorance.
"Julian Vance," I called out, my eyes locking onto him where he sat paralyzed in the third row.
Julian shrank into his seat, his face flushing a deep, sickly crimson. Several cadets sitting near him instinctively shifted away, clearing a literal circle of isolation around him as if he carried a contagious disease.
"According to the transaction logs on page fourteen of the federal audit," I continued, reading smoothly from the folder, "over forty-two thousand dollars of my stolen scholarship money was deposited directly into Julian’s personal checking account to cover luxury vehicle leases, high-end apartment rent in downtown Chicago, and fraternity debts at his former university."
Julian scrambled out of his chair, panic distorting his features.
"She's lying! It's a conspiracy!" Julian shouted, his voice cracking with adolescent desperation as he pointed a shaking finger at me. "She hacked my accounts! She's framing me because she's always been jealous of me!"
"Really, Julian?" I raised an eyebrow, reaching into the folder and pulling out a glossy, high-resolution color printout. "Is that why you signed a digital purchase agreement for a 2025 BMW M3 using my student ID number and my verified digital signature?"
I held the printout up toward the press gallery. Even from a distance, the bold signature Audrey Vance—blatantly forged in a messy, careless script that matched Julian’s handwriting style—was clearly visible under the dealership letterhead.
May you like
"The local police department and the FBI Cyber Crimes Division executed a search warrant on your fraternity house dorm room at 8:00 a.m. this morning," I added calmly. "Right now, agents are seizing your laptop, your phone, and the BMW parked in the academy visitor lot."
Julian’s knees buckled. He dropped back down into his folding chair, burying his face in his hands as a low murmur of disgust rippled through the student body and faculty. The golden boy had turned out to be nothing more than a common thief riding on the coattails of his sister's sweat and sacrifice.
