Chapter 49
Gulp.
I stood in front of the heavy wooden door. The sign said OFFICE OF THE DEAN. To me, it read OFFICE OF DOOM.
My hands were sweating. My bandage on my right hand (the one Gabriel kissed!) felt itchy.
"Okay, Aleesha," I whispered to myself. "Be brave. You are a Little Warrior. You wield chairs. You can handle a scolding."
I knocked. Knock. Knock.
"Come in," a voice called out.
I pushed the door open and shuffled inside.
The Dean was sitting behind his massive desk. Usually, he looks like a scary gargoyle. But today... he looked... sweaty?
He was wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. His tie was slightly crooked. He looked like he had seen a ghost. Or maybe a very scary lawyer.
"Miss Garcia," he cleared his throat. "Please. Sit."
I sat on the edge of the chair, clutching my pink backpack. "Am I... am I expelled now, Sir? Do I have to pack my locker?"
"No, no," the Dean waved his hand nervously. "In fact... I have reviewed your case. And... uh... new evidence regarding your character and the circumstances has come to light."
I blinked. "New evidence?"
"Yes," he coughed. "I have decided to... reconsider the penalty."
My heart stopped. Reconsider?
"The Category 2 Violation remains on your record," he said sternly (trying to sound scary, but his voice cracked a little). "You hit a student. That is undeniable. Violence is bad."
"Yes, Sir," I nodded vigorously. "Violence is bad! Chairs are for sitting!"
"However," he continued, looking at a piece of paper on his desk like it was a script he had to memorize. "I have decided not to forfeit your Latin Honors."
WHAT?!
My mouth dropped open. A fly could have flown in and built a condo!
"Really?!" I squealed. "I... I can still be Summa? I can still be a Laude?!"
"Yes," the Dean sighed, wiping his sweat again. "Your scholarship is also... reinstated. Through an anonymous donor who insisted on supporting 'students with warrior spirits'."
Warrior spirits?
That sounds like... Gabby!
WAAAAHHH! He didn't buy the school (I hope!), but he definitely did something! My husband is a wizard!
"Thank you! Thank you!" I bounced in my seat. "I promise I will never throw furniture again! I will glue the chairs to the floor!"
"Good," the Dean muttered. "But! There is still a punishment. You must do Community Service."
"I will do it!" I saluted. "I will scrub toilets! I will paint walls! I will pick up gum from the sidewalks!"
"No, no," the Dean shook his head. "The school grounds are... surprisingly clean. We don't need manual labor."
He looked at a file.
"The Psychology Department is conducting a field research study. They are short-handed on assistants. You will accompany the senior Psych students."
"Ooh!" I perked up.
"Yes," the Dean nodded. "They are visiting a facility next week. The St. Dymphna Psychiatric Hospital."
A hospital? For the mind?
"You will assist in observing patients, interviewing staff, and organizing data," the Dean explained. "It is administrative work. But it counts as your service. 50 hours."
I nodded enthusiastically. "I accept! I love data! And I am good with people! I will be the best assistant ever!"
"Fine. Sign here. You are dismissed."
I signed the paper with a flourish (making sure the pen didn't fly away).
I walked out of the office.
I didn't run. I floated.
I have my honors! I have my scholarship! My parents won't be disappointed!
"Thank you, Universe!" I whispered, looking up at the ceiling. "And thank you, scary Logistician Husband!"
★
I skipped into the cafeteria.
The atmosphere was weird. Yesterday, everyone was whispering and looking at me like I was a villain. Today... people were looking at their phones, frowning, looking confused.
I spotted my squad. Ian, Ash, Kiel, and Joseph.
They were sitting at our usual round table. They are my "Boy Friends" (Space intended! Not boyfriends!). They are also Stephie's friends. They were the ones who held me back yesterday when I went Hulk Mode.
"Guys!" I cheered, slamming my tray of spaghetti down. "Guess what! I am not an outcast! I am still a Scholar!"
Ian looked up. He had messy hair and glasses. He looked excited.
"Aleesha! That's great! But dude... sit down. You need to see this."
"See what?" I sat down, twisting my fork into the pasta. "Is it a cat video?"
"No," Ash said, leaning in. "It's about the video. The Stephie video."
My appetite vanished. "I don't want to see it," I whispered. "It hurts my soul."
"No, listen," Kiel said, his eyes wide. "The tides are turning. Look."
Ian pushed his phone toward me.
It was a compilation video on TikTok.
A random student from the Engineering department was talking to the camera.
"Yo, everyone needs to chill on the Stephie Miller hate. I was in the library when that 'video' supposedly happened. Stephie was literally sitting next to me studying Chemistry. She didn't leave for three hours. The timestamp is fake."
The video cut to another girl.
"Stephie is the sweetest person in this school. She volunteers at the animal shelter. Y'all are just jealous and nasty. #JusticeForStephie"
And another.
"I saw Chad edit photos before. He's a creep. Don't believe everything you see online."
I blinked.
"People are... defending her?" I whispered. "But yesterday they were laughing!"
"It's going viral," Joseph said, scrolling. "The hashtag #StephieInnocent is trending higher than the leak. It's like... the whole internet decided to fight back overnight."
My heart swelled.
"That's amazing," I sniffled. "People are good. Faith in humanity restored."
"Wait," Kiel interrupted. "That's just the opinion stuff. Look at this."
He clicked on another video.
It was titled: DEBUNKING THE FAKE: A Digital Forensics Analysis.
The video didn't show a face. It just showed a computer screen and a pair of hands typing super fast. The voice was modulated—like a robot voice.
"Hello, internet. I am a digital analyst. Let's look at the metadata of the so-called leak."
The screen zoomed in on the Stephie video (censored, thank goodness).
"Look at the shadow on the neck," the robot voice said. "The pixelation here doesn't match the light source. And look at the hairline. This is a classic Deepfake artifact."
The hands typed some code. The screen changed.
"I ran this through a detection algorithm. 99.8% Probability of Artificial Manipulation."
Then, the craziest part.
The hands on the screen did some editing magic. They "peeled" Stephie's face off the video... revealing...
NOTHING! Just a gray blob!
"The face was superimposed," the voice said. "This video was fabricated. It is a fake. A malicious attack."
I gasped so hard I choked on air.
"A deepfake?!" I shrieked. "You mean... it wasn't real?!"
"Apparently not!" Ian said, looking amazed. "That analyst tore it apart! They proved it was CGI!"
My brain did a cartwheel.
Wait.
At the spa... Stephie cried. She told me she did make a video. She said Chad gaslighted her into filming it. She was terrified because she knew it was real.
So... how is it a deepfake?
Did Stephie lie?
Or...
I thought of Gabriel.
"This time, I will not fail."
I thought of Sean. The wizard in the hoodie.
Did they...?
Did they make it a deepfake? Did they hack the video and... change the code so it looked fake? Or did they make this "Analysis Video" to trick everyone into thinking it was fake?
My head started to spin. Logistics.
"But wait," Kiel said, grinning like a maniac. "Here is the cherry on top. The smoking gun."
He played the next clip.
It was a black screen with audio waveforms moving.
A voice played. A voice I recognized immediately.
It was Chad.
"Look, man, I don't care how much it costs," Chad's voice sneered through the speaker. It was grainy, like it was recorded secretly. "Just make it look real. Put her face on it. I need leverage. If she tries to dump me, I'm gonna ruin her."
Another voice (distorted) answered: "Deepfakes cost extra."
Chad: "Here's 5k. Just get it done. Make sure everyone believes it."
The video ended.
Silence at the table.
My hand flew to my mouth.
"Oh. My. Gosh."
Ian slammed his fist on the table. "BOOM! Caught in 4K audio!"
"He bribed someone!" Ash shouted. "He admitted it! He paid for a deepfake! That means the video is fake! He framed her!"
"That scumbag!" Joseph shook his head. "He's done. The school is already talking about expelling him."
I sat there, frozen.
Chad admitted it? He admitted it was a deepfake?
But... Stephie said they did it!
Unless... unless Chad lied to Stephie too? Maybe they never filmed it, and he just told her they did to scare her? And then he made a fake one?
Or...
Did Gabriel's people make that audio recording?
Did they use AI to make Chad say that?
To save Stephie?
To fix everything?
I looked at the phone screen. The comments were flooding in.
"OMG Chad is evil!" "Poor Stephie!" "I knew it was fake! It looked so CGI!" "Arrest Chad!"
The hate... it was gone. It was shifting. It was attacking Chad instead of Stephie.
Everything... everything is fixed.
Stephie isn't "the girl in the scandalous video." She is now "the victim of a cyber-crime."
She is safe.
She is innocent in the eyes of the world.
I felt tears prick my eyes again. But these were happy tears. Confused, shocked, but happy tears.
"Gabby," I whispered under my breath. "You crazy, scary, wonderful genius."
He didn't just delete the file. He rewrote the story.
He saved her.
"I need to call Stephie!" I jumped up, abandoning my spaghetti. "I need to tell her! She's free!"
I ran out of the cafeteria, leaving the boys celebrating the victory of truth (or... Gabriel's version of the truth).