Chapter 47 Chapter Twenty One of Grade Me Harder
I stood still, every muscle locked in place as her words echoed around the auditorium.
She was good, talented even. I got to give it to her.
The sobs. The trembling. The long, tragic monologue. It was the kind of performance that split a crowd right down the middle: those who believed her, and those who couldn’t breathe under the weight of what they now doubted.
My jaw clenched as I watched the same people who’d looked at her with suspicion moments ago now glance at Serena—Bianca—with empathy. As if her story rewrote the evidence, erased the lies, justified the deceit.
They were willing to forgive anything and anyone but me. Not that I need their forgiveness anyway. I regret nothing. She probably thought she got the upper hand now but I’d seen it—the calculation behind her tears. The way her eyes flicked across the room, checking reactions like a performer reading her audience.
“This is how she plays them,” I whispered under my breath.
The panel shifted in their seats. Some leaned in and whispered to each other. The audience felt confused, caught between what was real and what was just for show.
But I wouldn’t let it end like this. I stepped forward.
“If that’s the truth, Serena…” My voice rang out clear, slicing through the silence. “Then why didn’t you come forward before? Why build a fake identity? Why wait until you were caught to tell your story?”
She froze.
Because victims don’t lie. But liars? Liars wait until exposure to become victims.
I took another step. “You want us to believe your past forgives your present. But nothing excuses fraud. Nothing justifies dragging someone else’s name through the mud to cover your tracks.”
“You really are heartless,” Serena snapped, her voice breaking. “I opened up about the worst moment of my life, and you still want to tear me down.”
She turned toward the panel and the crowd, pleading. “This is what happens when you don’t cry the right way. When your trauma isn’t convenient enough for people like her.”
Soft murmurs began to ripple across the room.
“She has no compassion.”
“Can’t she see Serena’s hurting?”
“She’s being too harsh.”
Serena wiped her cheek and looked back at me with watery eyes. “I made a mistake, but that doesn’t mean I’m evil. I just wanted to start over. Is that such a crime?”
She let the words hang in the air, thick with emotion, her voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t know what it’s like to live in fear. To wake up every day hating yourself. You don’t know what that does to someone.”
Oh, please bitch.
“How about I show you proof that Professor Wolfe isn't the man who abused you for years? Real, authenticated proof.”
She tried to look unbothered. Smiled faintly. “Go on.”
\[SLIDE 3 – The WhatsApp Group Chat\]
“I had to say it. I couldn’t let them take Xander.”
“I love him. I know he has some anger issues that need to be fixed but I promise you that there is progress and we are working towards that as a couple so I had to lie”
The screen went black again.
Serena’s face dropped.
“That doesn’t prove anything,” she snapped, her voice rising as she shot to her feet.
“You said lie, Serena. Not ‘misremember.’ Not ‘protect.’ You said you lied.” I said with a smirk.
“It doesn’t say Wolfe’s name.”
“But we both know it was about him,” I shot back. “He was arrested that night. Convenient timing, don’t you think?”
Before she could say any word as a reply, I went to slide 4.
\[SLIDE 4 – The Office Camera\]
We played footage from Wolfe’s office. Then it cut to a still image of the hidden camera—a fake smoke detector. It blinked red. Hours of footage. All archived.
Students. Private conversations. Me and Wolfe. The intimacy. The evidence.
I turned to the panel. “She recorded us without consent. That’s not just creepy. That’s illegal.”
Serena stood now, red creeping into her cheeks. “You’re the one screwing your professor! Maybe you’re the one manipulating him.” She turned to the audience. “She’s not innocent! She’s a liar. Look at her—look at how she’s dressed, how she clings to him. She seduced him, and now she’s doing damage control—”
“Serena,” the dean warned.
She kept going, manic now. “You think he’s clean? He’s not! I know what predators look like—I’ve been with one!”
“Exactly,” I replied calmly. “And his name was Xander. Not Wolfe. We have footage. From Vegas. Want to see it?”
\[SLIDE 5 – The Vegas Footage\]
The screen cuts to grainy black-and-white CCTV. Bianca—Serena—dragged by her hair. Slapped. Slammed into a shelf. The audience watched, horrified. The man's face was right there for the audience to see.
Then the hallway. Bianca emerges from the men’s room, shaking, bruised, and dragging her feet. The red and purplish scars around her chest blaring in the footage. There were also new ones scattered around her neck as proof of what happened inside the toilet.
And that’s when she snapped.
Serena launched herself toward the projector, hands outstretched like claws. “Turn it off! You don’t get to show that! That’s mine! That’s mine!”
Security moved. The dean stood up.
“Bianca—Serena—step back.”
She whirled on him, trembling. “I didn’t do this to ruin you. I did it because I thought I was doing the right thing. I loved Xander once, okay? I thought what we had was real. I thought protecting him made me loyal… made me good.”
Her voice cracked.
“But after everything—after the lies and the pain, I realized what I was doing. I regretted it. I regretted protecting him. Because the only person who ever saw me and was there for me was you.”
Her eyes locked on Wolfe like he was the only thing keeping her from collapsing.
“You were always there. From the beginning. You were careful. Kind. Better than the rest of them. And then she—” Serena turned sharply to me, her face twisting. “She started getting closer. She started pulling you away.”
Her voice rose, fractured and furious.
“I couldn’t watch it happen. I couldn’t watch her take you—ruin you. You think she loves you? She doesn’t care what happens to you, not like I do!”
And then, almost screaming: “You were supposed to love me! I did all of this for us!”
She staggered toward Wolfe, eyes glistening, lips trembling with twisted hope. “But it’s not too late. We can fix this. We can still—”
Wolfe’s face was stone. When he finally spoke, his voice cut cleaner than any scream, “You didn’t love me, Serena. You obsessed. You violated. That’s not love. It’s rot dressed in romance.”
He stepped back, as if her presence physically sickened him.
“You watched us through a hidden camera. You framed me to play savior. You destroyed reputations just to feel close to something you could never have.”
His gaze turned razor sharp. “You don’t love me. You just hate that I could love someone else.”
A stunned silence gripped the auditorium for half a breath.
Then the room erupted.
Gasps. Murmurs. Phones out. Students whispering to one another in disbelief. Some looked horrified. Others stared at Serena like they were seeing her for the first time.
“She’s insane…”
“Oh my God, all this time—”
“She framed him?”
Security moved in fast. Serena flinched back at first, then screamed, trying to shove them away.
“Get off me! He loves me! He loves me, he’s just confused! You’re all brainwashed!”
The guards grabbed her arms and began pulling her toward the exit.
“Wolfe!” she shrieked, hair falling into her face. “Say something! Don’t let them take me like this!”
But Wolfe didn’t move. He didn’t even blink.
And the last thing Serena saw before the doors slammed behind her was the way he looked at Ava—not her.
The dean stepped up to the mic at the center of the panel table. Her face was grave but composed.
“Students, faculty, and guests… what you witnessed today was disturbing, and unfortunately very real.”
She took a moment to let the weight of her words settle.
She adjusted her glasses, then looked toward the panel, “After reviewing the footage and considering the public confession, the board has unanimously decided that Serena Caldwell’s degree will be officially revoked.”
A wave of murmurs ran through the crowd again.
“Her actions violated multiple codes of conduct. She forged her identity to gain admission into this school under false pretenses. She maliciously targeted a fellow student. She falsified accusations to frame an innocent man and accessed private footage illegally to manipulate the narrative.”
A collective murmur of agreement passed through the room.
“And now,” she turned to Wolfe, voice softening, “Professor Wolfe. On behalf of the school board, the ethics committee, and the students of Langston University, we offer our deepest apologies.”
Then she turned to the crowd, “While it has been made abundantly clear that Bianca committed multiple violations, including identity fraud, illegal surveillance, and falsified allegations. This board also recognizes that the relationship between Professor Wolfe and Ms. Ava Max occurred during her time as an active student.”
“Regardless of age or consent, such a relationship is considered a violation of university policy, given the inherent imbalance of power between faculty and students.”
“We condemn this breach of professional ethics and will be reviewing our staff-student relationship policies with immediate effect.”
“However, considering that Professor Wolfe has voluntarily resigned, and that both parties are no longer affiliated with the university, no further internal disciplinary action will be pursued at this time.”
I smiled, tears welling up in my eyes. Finally. Finally.