Chapter 3 - The Recording
The silence that fell over Room 402 was heavier and more suffocating than before.
Adrian stood frozen in the middle of the aisle, his mouth slightly open, his hands twitching at his sides. Vivian pushed her way past him from the back row, her face twisted in absolute horror.
“That’s a lie!” Vivian shrieked, her voice echoing shrilly off the ceiling panels. “She’s lying! They fabricated an audio file! Security, arrest them both!”
My father didn't argue with her. He simply tapped the screen of his phone.
A heavy, digital hiss filled the auditorium speakers. Then, the audio began to play, amplified across the room’s surround-sound system.
“...Adrian, stop! You’re hurting my wrists!”
“Shut up and stop embarrassing the family,” Adrian’s cold, smooth voice rang out clearly across the room. “Mom, hand me the scissors.”
“Women don’t belong in college,” Vivian’s voice followed, crisp and gleeful. “Tomorrow, you will call the university and withdraw.”
Then came the sound of tearing fabric, the heavy snap of a laptop smashing against stone, and finally, the muffled sound of my breathing before the recording cut off.
For ten seconds, nobody moved. Nobody breathed.
Every head in the auditorium slowly turned from the speakers toward Adrian and Vivian. The disgust in the eyes of the faculty members and students was absolute, palpable, and crushing.
Professor Larkin sank back into his chair, looking suddenly ten years older. He realized, with sudden, terrifying clarity, exactly what kind of trap he had walked into by agreeing to act as the hatchet man for Cole Biotech’s academic cover-up.
“My God,” a female doctoral candidate in the third row whispered loudly. “They tried to silence her.”
Adrian took a desperate step backward, looking around the room as if realizing for the first time that his money, his title, and his expensive suit couldn't protect him from a public execution of his character.
“It... it’s out of context,” Adrian stammered, his voice losing all of its corporate polish, cracking with panic. “She’s unstable! She provoked us! This is a private family matter!”
“A family matter?” My father stepped forward, his eyes blazing with a suppressed fury that made even the security guards step away from him. “You broke into her workspace, assaulted her in her own home, destroyed her property, and conspired with departmental leadership to sabotage a legitimate scientific defense. That isn't a family matter, Adrian. That is a criminal conspiracy.”
Robert turned his gaze back to the defense committee, his voice steady and commanding.
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“Proceed with the defense, Professor Larkin,” Robert said quietly. “Or I press play on the second audio file—the one where your financial department at Cole Biotech wires thirty thousand dollars into your personal Swiss bank account to ensure my daughter’s thesis failed today.”
Larkin’s head snapped up. He looked at my father with sheer terror, opened his mouth to speak, and then slumped forward, covering his face with his shaking hands.
