Chapter 20: The Woman Behind the Camera

Elaine denied personally taking most of the photographs.

According to her attorney, she had hired a private investigator because she believed my mother might eventually make a financial claim against Richard.

That explanation didn't make the photographs less disturbing.

It only gave the surveillance a name.

Officer Ramirez explained that hiring an investigator wasn't automatically illegal.

How the investigator obtained information, where he followed us, and whether anyone entered our apartment were separate questions.

My mother sat rigidly beside me.

“She had my daughter followed because of money we never asked for?”

Ramirez nodded carefully.

“That's what her attorney currently claims.”

I thought of Elaine at the school meeting.

Quiet.

Controlled.

Watching Greer unravel.

“Did she take the photograph of me walking home?”

“We're still establishing that.”

“What about the car outside our apartment?”

“The vehicle was assigned to her, but other people had access.”

I hated how many answers remained incomplete.

Still, incomplete truth was better than a convenient lie.

At school, Greer's confession had not become public.

Principal Warren knew.

The disciplinary committee knew.

Our attorneys knew.

But the forum remained offline, and I had no intention of posting it.

Talia cornered me after chemistry.

“Something happened.”

“Something is always happening.”

She almost smiled.

“Greer left the group chat.”

“Okay.”

“She also sent everyone a message saying the hospital post was her idea and that nobody should blame you anymore.”

I stopped walking.

“Do you have it?”

Talia showed me.

Greer's message was short.

“I posted Imogen's picture because I wanted people to turn against her. She did not fake anything and she did not start this. I did.”

I read it twice.

“Did she tell you to share this?”

“No.”

“Then don't.”

Talia stared at me.

“Why?”

“Because if Greer wants to make a public statement, she can make one herself.”

“You could clear your name completely.”

I looked around the hallway.

Students were still whispering about me.

Some believed the original rumor.

Some believed Greer was a liar.

Most had moved on to whatever drama came next.

“My name doesn't become clean because Greer says so,” I said.

“It was never dirty.”

Talia went quiet.

That realization had taken me an entire death to learn.

Later, Dr. Patel asked me how I was sleeping.

“Better.”

“Nightmares?”

I hesitated.

“Sometimes.”

I couldn't tell her they were memories.

“Do they involve the harassment?”

“Mostly my mother.”

She waited.

I stared at the carpet.

“I'm afraid something will happen to her because of me.”

“Your mother is an adult who makes her own choices.”

I knew that.

But I also remembered the oak tree.

“Knowing that doesn't stop the fear.”

“No,” Dr. Patel said. “But fear doesn't have to make decisions for you.”

I wrote that sentence down afterward.

That evening, Richard came to our attorney's office again.

This time, he brought financial records.

“Elaine has been moving money.”

Ms. Alvarez looked up.

“From where?”

“A personal account. Payments to an investigative firm began last year.”

He placed statements on the table.

Regular payments.

Then several unusual cash withdrawals around the time of my surgery.

“Do you believe these relate to Imogen?” my mother asked.

“I don't know.”

Richard looked exhausted.

“But I gave everything to the police.”

I examined the dates.

One withdrawal occurred the day before Greer photographed me.

Another the day Mason bought the prepaid phone.

Coincidence wasn't evidence.

But the pattern made my skin crawl.

Richard said, “There's something else.”

Of course there was.

“Elaine knew which hospital you were in.”

My mother stiffened.

“How?”

“I don't know.”

I did.

Or at least I saw a possibility.

My scholarship file.

The school knew about my medical leave.

If someone connected to the foundation had called my mother months earlier, perhaps information had been leaking through school administration.

“Who at Westbridge has access to student medical leave records?” I asked.

Richard looked at me.

Ms. Alvarez answered.

“Likely limited administrative staff.”

My thoughts went immediately to Counselor Bennett.

Stop making trouble.

Had he simply been incompetent?

Or had there been more?

We sent the question to Ramirez.

The answer came the next morning.

School access logs showed that my leave documentation had been opened twice after submission.

Once by the attendance office.

Once by Counselor Bennett.

That could have been normal.

Then came the detail that wasn't.

Counselor Bennett had accessed my emergency-contact and scholarship records the same afternoon.

Records unrelated to my surgery.

Principal Warren placed him on extended administrative leave pending investigation.

By lunch, I received an email from Bennett's personal account.

“You have no idea what you're interfering with.”

I stared at the screen.

Then I forwarded it to police.

Five minutes later, another email arrived.

“Your mother should have taken the money seventeen years ago.”

My hands went ice cold.

Counselor Bennett knew.