Chapter 5 - The Defense Room
The name froze in my mind.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't breathe.
Because the voice on the phone had just warned me about someone sitting inside my defense room.
Someone who had already decided my future.
"Who?" I asked again.
The line went silent.
"Tell me who it is."
A faint sound came through the speaker.
Like someone had moved the phone away.
Then the call ended.
I stared at the screen.
Unknown number.
No trace.
No information.
Just another warning.
Another piece of the puzzle.
"Evelyn?"
Professor Reeves was standing beside me.
Rachel was watching my face.
They both knew something had happened.
"Who was it?" Rachel asked.
I looked toward the defense room.
The door was still open.
Inside, I could see three members of my committee preparing their notes.
Three professors.
Three people who had spent years reviewing my work.
Three people who were supposed to judge my research fairly.
But now I wondered.
Who could I trust?
"I don't know," I whispered.
Professor Reeves looked concerned.
"But?"
I tightened my grip on my folder.
"But they knew someone inside had already made a decision."
Rachel looked away.
She knew.
She knew this wasn't impossible.
Because people had already been working against me for weeks.
My husband.
His mother.
My own research assistant.
The question was no longer whether someone wanted me to fail.
The question was how many people were involved.
Professor Reeves looked at the clock.
"Your defense begins in ten minutes."
Ten minutes.
A normal person would have walked away.
A normal person would have postponed.
A normal person would have broken down after discovering that the person they loved had secretly tried to destroy their career.
But I had spent seven years preparing for this moment.
And I realized something.
If I left now, they won.
Not just Hunter.
Not just Barbara.
Everyone who believed women like me eventually gave up.
I adjusted my folder.
"I'm going in."
Rachel looked surprised.
"Evelyn, are you sure?"
I looked at her.
"No."
The honesty surprised her.
"I'm not sure about anything anymore."
I took a breath.
"But I know I earned my place in that room."
Professor Reeves nodded.
Then he opened the door.
And I walked inside.
The defense room looked exactly the way I imagined it would.
A long wooden table.
A projector screen.
My research presentation waiting on the computer.
My dissertation printed neatly in front of every committee member.
Everything was prepared.
Everything looked professional.
Everything looked normal.
But I knew better.
Because the worst things in life often looked normal from the outside.
Hunter was not there.
Barbara was not there.
For some reason, that made me more nervous.
Because people who controlled situations usually wanted to watch the result.
Unless they already knew what was going to happen.
I sat down.
Across from me were my committee members.
Professor Lane.
Professor Mitchell.
And Dr. Anderson.
Three respected academics.
Three people who held my future in their hands.
Professor Lane smiled politely.
"Dr. Carter, let's begin."
The title still felt strange.
Not because I wasn't qualified.
Because I had spent so many years hearing people tell me I wasn't ready.
I connected my laptop.
The presentation appeared.
My research title filled the screen.
"Ethical Boundaries Between Corporate Funding and Academic Independence."
I looked at the words.
The same research that had created this nightmare.
The same research Hunter wanted to disappear.
I began.
For the first ten minutes, everything felt normal.
I explained my methodology.
My findings.
My conclusions.
The committee asked questions.
I answered.
Then Professor Mitchell interrupted.
"Your data sources are questionable."
The room changed.
Just slightly.
But enough.
I looked at him.
"Could you explain?"
He opened a folder.
A familiar folder.
My stomach tightened.
"The concern is that some of your collected data may have been improperly obtained."
My heartbeat increased.
"That's not true."
He looked at the papers.
"We received documentation suggesting otherwise."
Documentation.
That word.
Again.
Everything came back to documentation.
Fake papers.
Fake signatures.
Fake accusations.
I glanced at Professor Reeves through the glass window.
He was standing outside.
Watching.
I continued.
"I would like to see the documentation."
Professor Mitchell slid a paper across the table.
I picked it up.
And my blood went cold.
It was my signature.
Again.
Another forged document.
This time claiming I had violated research regulations.
"This is fake," I said.
Professor Anderson looked surprised.
"Are you accusing someone of fabricating evidence?"
"Yes."
The room became silent.
Professor Lane leaned forward.
"Dr. Carter, you understand the seriousness of that accusation."
I looked at all three of them.
"I understand the seriousness of someone trying to destroy my career with false evidence."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Professor Mitchell said:
"We have a witness."
My heart stopped.
"A witness?"
The door opened.
Everyone turned.
A woman stepped inside.
And I immediately recognized her.
Rachel.
My eyes widened.
She looked nervous.
Conflicted.
Professor Mitchell gestured toward her.
"Rachel Morgan has provided information regarding your research practices."
I couldn't believe it.
Rachel looked at me.
Her face was filled with regret.
But she didn't say anything.
The betrayal felt immediate.
Even though I knew she had already admitted helping them.
This was different.
This was happening in front of the people who could decide my future.
"Rachel," I whispered.
She looked down.
"I'm sorry."
The words echoed.
Professor Lane looked at me.
"Dr. Carter, did Ms. Morgan have access to your research files?"
I didn't answer immediately.
Because the truth was complicated.
"Yes."
"And did she assist you?"
"Yes."
"Then why would she claim your data was manipulated?"
I looked at Rachel.
She looked terrified.
Not guilty.
Terrified.
There was a difference.
Something was wrong.
I stood.
"Rachel."
She looked at me.
"Tell them the truth."
Her lips parted.
But no words came out.
Professor Mitchell frowned.
"Ms. Morgan?"
Rachel looked at the committee.
Then at me.
Then suddenly, she reached into her bag.
Everyone became alert.
She pulled out a small recording device.
"I need to correct my statement."
The room froze.
Professor Lane stared.
"What is that?"
Rachel placed it on the table.
"The original recording."
My heart started racing.
The recording.
The one she told me about.
The evidence.
"I was pressured to lie," Rachel said.
Professor Mitchell's expression changed.
"By whom?"
Rachel looked at me.
Then she looked at the committee.
Her voice shook.
"By the person who wanted Evelyn Carter removed from this program."
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
"Who?" Professor Lane demanded.
Rachel swallowed.
Then she pressed play.
The room filled with a familiar voice.
Hunter.
"Make sure she fails."
My entire body went cold.
The recording continued.
Hunter's voice.
Clear.
Calm.
Cruel.
"If she becomes Dr. Carter, she will discover everything."
The committee members exchanged confused looks.
Everything.
That word.
The same word from before.
Professor Reeves stepped into the room.
"Stop the recording."
Everyone looked at him.
But it was too late.
Because the next voice on the recording was not Hunter's.
It was Barbara's.
And she said something that made everyone in the room go silent.
"Your son is not the only one involved."
The recording stopped.
Nobody spoke.
Then Professor Lane slowly looked toward the door.
Because standing outside the defense room was someone who had heard every word.
May you like
Someone who had just arrived.
Someone I never expected to see there.
