Chapter 3 - THE SCHOLARSHIP THAT DISAPPEARED
Two days passed before Ethan came to my house.
Lauren hadn't called.
I hadn't called her either.
That was unusual for me.
Throughout her childhood, I had always been the one who repaired the silence.
Not this time.
Ethan arrived carrying a cardboard box.
“My father asked me to bring this.”
Inside was my old diner apron.
I laughed and cried simultaneously.
“You people really kept this thing.”
Ethan smiled.
“Dad calls it the most expensive piece of fabric he owns.”
“It's polyester.”
“He knows.”
We sat at my kitchen table.
Then Ethan told me what happened after I left the church.
He had asked Victoria how long she had known my identity.
She claimed she hadn't.
Charles didn't believe her.
Neither did Rebecca.
Then Lauren admitted something.
She had met Victoria years before she ever met Ethan.
During college.
Lauren had applied for a Whitmore Foundation scholarship.
I remembered the application.
She had spent weeks writing essays.
Then she told me she didn't get it.
That was why I withdrew money from my retirement account.
“What does this have to do with Victoria?”
Ethan placed a document on my table.
Across the top:
WHITMORE FOUNDATION — SCHOLARSHIP AWARD AUTHORIZATION.
Recipient:
LAUREN ELLIS.
Amount:
$25,000.
Approved.
I stared at it.
“She told me she was rejected.”
“She wasn't.”
“Then where did the money go?”
Ethan slid another paper toward me.
The payment had been transferred to a company called Hale Educational Consulting.
Hale.
Victoria Hale.
I looked up.
“She took Lauren's scholarship?”
“We don't know exactly what happened yet.”
But we both knew.
Charles had ordered an independent audit.
By Friday, they found another scholarship.
Then another.
Then six more.
Money intended for students had been redirected into consulting fees.
Nearly three hundred thousand dollars.
Some students never received a cent.
And Victoria had personally interviewed Lauren.
Suddenly her behavior made sense.
Years later, when Lauren began dating Ethan, Victoria recognized her.
The student whose scholarship she had diverted was about to marry into the Whitmore family.
Victoria needed Lauren close.
More importantly, she needed Lauren insecure.
She began inviting her to lunches.
Telling her how to dress.
How to speak.
Which childhood stories to avoid.
She never directly ordered Lauren to hide me.
She did something worse.
She convinced Lauren that hiding me was necessary.
That afternoon, my daughter finally came home.
She stood in my doorway crying.
“I didn't know.”
“About the scholarship?”
She nodded.
“I thought I lost.”
“You won.”
She covered her mouth.
“I made you pay.”
“No.”
“You used your retirement.”
“How did you know?”
“Ethan told me.”
I sighed.
“I chose to help you.”
“But you shouldn't have had to.”
“No.”
She looked around the little house she'd spent months pretending didn't exist.
Then she whispered:
“I was ashamed of this.”
I said nothing.
“Mom, say something.”
“What would you like me to say?”
“That you forgive me.”
“I love you.”
“That isn't the same.”
“No.”
Her face crumpled.
I stood.
“Lauren, forgiveness isn't a button.”
She cried silently.
“You didn't forget my birthday. You didn't say something stupid during an argument. You deliberately removed me from your life because you believed being associated with me made you smaller.”
“I know.”
“That takes time.”
She nodded.
I walked closer.
“But I'm willing to give it time.”
She collapsed into my arms.
For the first time since the wedding, I held my daughter.
And she cried against the same shoulder she'd slept on as a child.
But repairing our relationship would be complicated.
Because the audit had uncovered another document.
An email written by Victoria seven years earlier.
It contained Lauren's name.
May you like
And one sentence none of us would ever forget:
Redirect the award. Her mother will find a way to pay. Women like that always do.
