Fatal Frequency

The whole class whipped their heads back and forth between Grandma and me, confused.

Grandma reached into the inner pocket of her worn-out jacket and pulled out a small bag of cash. She pressed it into my hands.

It was mostly nickels, dimes, and crinkled one-dollar bills. Nothing larger than a 20-dollar bill. However, I knew what this was—it was months of Grandma's hard work, scavenging cans and cardboard to sell at the recycling center.

She said, her voice trembling, "Sylvie, when you left for college, I didn't have any money to give you. This is from selling scraps this month. You keep it for food. Don't lose it."

My throat tightened, and tears stung my eyes. I pushed the money back into her rough hands.

"Grandma, I don't need it. I applied for the financial aid grant. I'll have money soon."

Grandma's face lit up with pure relief. She shuffled over to Mr. Carter and grabbed his hand, shaking it gratefully. "You must be Sylvie's teacher, right? Thank you. Thank you for giving the grant to Sylvie."

Mr. Carter looked like he had touched something filthy, but Grandma kept going.

"Sylvie has had such a hard life. Her parents died in a car wreck when she was a baby. I raised her by picking through trash. I was so worried my scrap money wouldn't be enough to feed her, but now... Now, she can finally eat a full meal. Sir, you're a true saint."

Mr. Carter opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly, Chloe's voice rang out—not from her mouth but from inside her head.

"Oh, please. Does he actually believe this? That old hag isn't her grandmother. She's a paid actress! They don't even look alike. Sylvie really will do anything for that cash."

The whisper network started up again, confirming Chloe's toxic thoughts had taken root in the room.

"Sylvie has a pointy chin, and that old woman has a round face. They don't look related at all."

"Did she actually hire a hobo to stage a scene just to get the scholarship?"

"Rich people are the worst. The more they have, the cheaper they are."

Chloe stood in the back, gloating as everyone's suspicion turned into hostility.

Mr. Carter yanked his hand away from Grandma, wiping it on his pants. He looked at us with utter disappointment.

"Sylvie, did your parents fail to teach you about honesty? Do you want financial aid? Fine. But you should just apply through the proper channels!"

He glared at me. "Faking a transaction history wasn't enough? You even hired an actor? Do you have absolutely no respect for me?"

Grandma looked panicked, her hands trembling. "Sir... I really am Sylvie's grandma. She didn't lie to you!"

Mr. Carter ignored her, his eyes cold as they bore into me.

"Sylvie, you lie pathologically. You don't deserve to be a student at this institution." He pointed to the door. "We're expelling you. Now, get the hell out of this college."

Grandma dropped to her knees, sobbing. "Sir! Sylvie didn't lie! Please, I'm begging you, don't expel her!"

I gritted my teeth, grabbed Grandma's arm, and hauled her up. "Grandma, don't kneel to him. We're leaving."

"No!" Grandma grabbed my sleeve, tears streaming down her face. "You worked so hard to pass the entrance exams! You can't leave! If you leave, your life is over!"

Chloe's thoughts echoed in my head again. "Tsk, tsk. Did Sylvie shoot herself in the foot or what? Serves her right. Thank God, Mr. Carter isn't an idiot and saw through her little play."

Any hesitation Mr. Carter might have had evaporated. He looked at Grandma and me like we were gum stuck to his shoe.

"Two of you, grab them and throw them out. Stop them from polluting the air here."

Two burly male students stepped forward, grabbing Grandma and me to drag us out.

Just then, the doors burst open. Chancellor Alex Higgins strode in, followed by a frantic entourage.

The Mr. looked wild-eyed. "Mr. Carter! Where's Sylvie? Get her out here, now!"

Mr. Carter looked confused for a second, then he adopted a fawning smile. "Mr. Higgins! No need to dirty your hands, sir. I've already taken care of the trash. I just expelled her."

Mr. Higgins froze. His face went pale, and his voice cracked, jumping an octave. "You said... you did what to Sylvie?"

Mr. Carter puffed out his chest, looking proud. "Yes, sir. Sylvie hid her family's wealth to scam the financial aid department, and she even hired an actor to stage a scene here. This behavior is a stain on our reputation. She's not a student here anymore, so whatever she does is none of our business."

Mr. Carter was practically beaming with self-satisfaction. He was so busy gloating that he missed the fact that Mr. Higgins looked like he was about to have a stroke.

Mr. Higgins backhanded a stack of newspapers right into Mr. Carter's face. "Who gave you permission to expel her? Open your eyes and read this, you moron!"