Chapter 26: The Aftermath

Amelia's POV

I stared at my phone screen, trying to steady my trembling fingers as I typed a response to Isabelle's fifteenth message since last night.

I'm fine. Just tired.

The lie felt hollow, but what else could I say? That I'd spent the night alternating between sobbing and having panic attacks? That I kept replaying every excruciating second of that disaster on stage?

My phone lit up immediately. Not another text—she was calling. I considered letting it go to voicemail but finally answered.

"Hey," I croaked, wincing at how wrecked my voice sounded.

"Jesus Christ, Amelia." Isabelle's voice was sharp with concern. "You sound like death. What happened after you go back home?"

"Nothing. I just..." I swallowed hard, trying to force my voice to sound normal. "I need to rest."

"Bullshit. I'm coming over. Thirty minutes."

"Isabelle, you don't have to—"

"Not negotiable. See you soon."

She hung up before I could protest further. Part of me wanted to text her to stay away, but the larger, more desperate part craved someone who understood what had happened. I glanced at my mother's closed bedroom door. At least she was finally sleeping after a restless night of coughing.

I dragged myself to the bathroom, flinching at my reflection. Puffy red eyes, hair that looked like I'd been electrocuted, and skin so pale I could practically see through it. Splashing cold water on my face did little to help. I looked exactly like what I was—someone whose life had just imploded on a public stage.

---

Twenty-eight minutes later, a soft knock at the front door announced Isabelle's arrival. She stood on my doorstep clutching a cardboard tray with two coffees and a paper bag that smelled like cinnamon.

"You look like shit," she said bluntly, pushing past me into the apartment.

"Thanks. Just what every girl wants to hear."

Her eyes softened as she took in my appearance more carefully. "Seriously, Amelia. Are you okay?"

I glanced nervously at my mother's bedroom door. "Keep it down. She just took her meds and finally fell asleep."

Isabelle nodded and we moved to the kitchen. As soon as we were seated at our small table, the carefully constructed facade I'd been maintaining crumbled. Tears welled up without warning.

"I've lost everything," I whispered, my voice breaking. "The scholarship is gone. We needed that money for Mom's treatments. And Alexander—" My voice caught. "He probably thinks I'm responsible for those photos. What if he decides to punish Nathan for this too? And the entire campus is going to think I'm just some pathetic, crazy Omega who got rejected by the Head Alpha."

Isabelle pushed a napkin toward me. "First, drink some water and breathe."

I obeyed, gulping down half a glass.

"Now listen to me," she continued, her voice firm but gentle. "Think about this logically. If Alexander actually believed you were responsible for spreading those photos or rumors, do you think he would have let you just run away from that stage?"

I froze, cup halfway to my lips.

"A Head Alpha protecting his reputation wouldn't hesitate to make an example of someone who tried to humiliate him publicly," she pointed out. "But he didn't stop you or accuse you of anything."

"You think... he knows I was set up?"

Isabelle nodded emphatically. "That's exactly what I think. Which is why we need to get back to campus today."

"Are you insane?" My heart rate doubled at the mere thought. "I can't face everyone after—"

"Hiding is exactly what Vanessa wants. Every day you stay away, her version of events becomes the only story people hear." Isabelle leaned forward, eyes intense. "You need to show up with your head high, looking confident even if you're screaming inside."

The thought made me nauseous, but I recognized the truth in her words. "I don't know if I can."

"You can. And you will." She squeezed my hand. "You won't be alone."

I wiped my eyes, feeling a tiny spark of something that might have been hope. "My mom always says real strength is still standing when everyone expects you to fall."

"Smart woman," Isabelle smiled. "Now finish your coffee. We have a battle to fight."

The sound of shuffling footsteps made us both look up. My mother appeared in the doorway, wrapped in her faded blue robe, her thin frame supported by the doorjamb.

"Amelia? Is everything alright?" Her eyes, always perceptive despite her illness, studied my face. "You look exhausted, sweetie."

Isabelle and I exchanged a quick glance, silently coordinating our story.

"Everything's fine, Mom," I said, forcing a smile. "Isabelle and I were just discussing our biology coursework."

"We've been up late working on lab reports," Isabelle added smoothly. "Your daughter is determined to ace every assignment."

My mother's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Don't push yourself too hard. You know I worry."

I crossed the room and kissed her cheek. "I know, Mom. I'm taking care of myself, I promise."

As I guided her back to her room, I shot Isabelle a grateful look over my shoulder. One crisis averted, at least temporarily.

---

The moment we stepped onto campus, I felt the atmosphere shift. Conversations paused. Heads turned. Phones appeared in hands, not-so-subtly aimed in our direction.

"Ignore them," Isabelle muttered, linking her arm through mine.

Easier said than done. I could feel my wolf stirring restlessly beneath my skin, sensing the threat in every stare and whisper. I pulled out my own phone to distract myself and immediately regretted it. The university's social forums were flooded with posts about yesterday's "incident."

Biology genius has public meltdown during scholarship presentation

WTF happened at the science building presentation?

Anyone have video of the Shaw girl freaking out on stage?

Every post carefully danced around mentioning Alexander's presence, focusing instead on my "mental breakdown" and "inappropriate content." The deliberate omission made it clear that someone—likely with significant influence—had controlled the narrative.

"I can't breathe," I whispered to Isabelle, feeling my chest tighten as my wolf clawed for release.

Her grip on my arm tightened. "Yes, you can. Deep breaths. Remember, you're not alone in this."

I forced air into my lungs, straightening my spine with every ounce of willpower I possessed. "My mother taught me that an Omega's dignity isn't defined by others' opinions of her."

"Exactly. Now show them," Isabelle nodded approvingly.

As we rounded the corner toward the main hall, my step faltered. A crowd had gathered, many looking at their phones, some laughing. Then I saw what had captured their attention—someone had created a social media group specifically to share the doctored photos of Alexander and me. The latest posts suggested I'd tried to seduce him to win the scholarship.

Before I could process this new humiliation, Vanessa emerged from the center of the group, her red lipstick matching the victorious gleam in her eyes.

"Well, if it isn't our campus genius," she called out, loud enough for everyone to hear. "How are you feeling after yesterday? I heard Alpha Alexander was furious in the lecture hall after you ran away." She gave an exaggerated pout. "Looks like your little plan didn't quite work out, did it?"

Students began to gather, sensing drama. I felt dozens of eyes on me, waiting for my reaction—waiting for me to break down again.

Instead, I found myself thinking of my mother's quiet strength through years of illness, of Nathan standing up to Daniel to protect me, and of Isabelle beside me now.

I straightened my shoulders and met Vanessa's gaze directly.