Part 2Campus Scandal: My "Sugar Daddy" is Actually My Uncle

Early the next morning, someone taped a piece of printer paper to my dorm room door.

[Please have some self-respect and stay away from Liam Sterling. Stop embarrassing the Journalism Department.]

It was signed: "All the Women of the Journalism Department."

I ripped the paper off the door and flipped it over.

The back was blank.

Perfect. I needed scratch paper for calculus anyway.

During my morning lecture, I sat in the very back row of the auditorium.

Every single student in front of me collectively moved three rows forward.

Like I was emitting lethal radiation.

Mia, one of Chloe’s loyal sidekicks, specifically walked all the way to the back to place an iced matcha latte on my desk.

"Chloe said to buy you a drink."

"Don't need it."

"She also said," Mia lowered her voice.

"If you post a public apology on the campus forum today, she'll help you suppress the trending posts."

"Apologize for what?"

"Admit that your behavior toward Liam was highly inappropriate."

"What exactly is inappropriate about my perfectly normal interpersonal relationships?"

Mia sighed.

"Those texts are out there. The whole school saw them."

"No one is going to believe anything you say now."

"You might as well just bow your head and take the out."

I slid the matcha latte back toward her.

"I'll bow my head."

"Right after she gives me my Top Ten Student award back."

Mia took the drink and left.

At noon, I went to the dining hall. The card reader beeped: Insufficient Funds.

Liam’s debit card had been confiscated by Chloe as "evidence" and handed over to the Student Government.

And my own personal bank account had exactly $47 left.

There were nineteen days left in the month.

That averaged out to about $2.40 a day.

I grabbed a bowl of plain white rice and sat in a corner.

My roommate, Zoey, slid half her chicken teriyaki onto my plate. She assumed I had blown through my allowance and couldn't afford food.

To be fair, she wasn't entirely wrong.

"Eat mine."

"I'm good, I'm on a diet."

"You weigh 100 pounds. What are you dieting for?"

"I'm trying to lose enough weight so the wind blows me away and I never have to deal with this school again."

That afternoon, I marched into the Student Government office to get my card back.

Chloe was sitting at a desk, organizing files.

She looked up at me, her expression perfectly blank.

"I can't give you the card right now."

"That is my living expense money."

"This card is under the name Liam Sterling." She held the black card up.

"Until he personally confirms it, we cannot hand it over to you."

"You have no legal right to confiscate it either."

Chloe calmly dropped the card into her drawer and locked it.

"This is to protect Liam's financial assets."

"What if you really are extorting him?"

She said it so smoothly, her tone as steady as if she were reading from a textbook.

Like she was the true victim.

And I was the dangerous predator that needed to be contained.

I reached out and grabbed the handle of the drawer.

Chloe instantly slammed her hand down hard over mine.

"Harper, are you going to rob me?"

"There are three Student Government officers right outside that door."

"If you get physical with me, your expulsion papers will be drafted by tomorrow."

I pulled my hand back.

Her acrylic nails had left a long, red scratch across the back of my hand.

"Liam finishes his competition and gets back to campus the day after tomorrow."

"You can confront him face-to-face then."

"If he says this card was actually meant for you, I'll return it without a second thought."

She smiled warmly and opened the office door for me.

"But if he doesn't..."

"I will personally recommend that all your academic honors and scholarship eligibilities be permanently revoked."

I walked out of the office and stared at the stinging red scratch on my hand.

When she slammed her hand down on mine, the three male officers outside saw the whole thing.

None of them thought anything was wrong.

Because in their eyes, I was a gold digger.

A gold digger getting scratched was just poetic justice.

I scrolled through my phone contacts.

My parents were on a business trip in Europe, a twelve-hour time difference.

My grandmother didn't know how to use a smartphone.

Liam was still entirely unreachable.

A new post went up on the forum.

[DEEP DIVE on Gold Digger Harper: Using Upperclassman's Card for Luxury Goods, Spotted Sneaking Out of His Penthouse.]

Attached was a photo of me from last weekend, wearing that oversized coat Liam didn't want, walking out of his luxury apartment building.

The camera angle was deliberate, the lighting dim.

It genuinely looked like a shady sugar baby doing a midnight walk of shame.

The top comment read:

[If the school doesn't expel trash like this, our university's reputation is going to be ruined.]

I locked my phone.

Just last month, my grandma called Liam and explicitly told him to take good care of me.

He had agreed instantly.

"Don't worry, Mom. I'll treat her like my own daughter."

Well, your daughter can't afford lunch, her bank card was stolen, and her reputation is shredded to pieces.

Thanks for taking such good care of me, Uncle.