Chapter 304

I couldn’t believe this was happening. I’d done nothing wrong. Maybe the provost wanted to discuss something else with me. In any case, it wouldn’t be good to make them wait.

Getting up from the table, I shot a look across the cafeteria at Cara, but she was speaking to an older woman in a similar uniform as hers and wasn’t looking in my direction.

But everyone else stared at me as I made my way to the exit.

The Morefield Building was on the other side of the campus, near the library and bookstore. It would have been a pleasant walk if my stomach wasn’t twisted into knots.

The phrase ‘suspended or expelled’ played like a drumbeat in my head as I walked along on the neatly edged sidewalks to the main offices of the school.

Inside the Morefield Building, I followed the signs to the University Provost's office and told the secretary I was there.

“Please sit down,” the secretary said. “Provost Shires will be with you as soon as possible.”

“But I have a class in a half hour,” I objected.

What would I do if I hadn’t spoken to the provost yet and it was time for my next class?

“She’ll be with you as soon as possible,” the secretary repeated.

I sat down and looked out the window next to my chair. I wanted to attend a great school like Frampton for so long, and now that I was here, I was afraid of being expelled on my first day.

I didn’t understand what I said that would make anyone report me to the university provost.

Whatever I had to do, I couldn’t let them expel me. I would pretend to agree and get along until I put together a report on the situation on college campuses like this one.

I couldn’t let Betas like Heather down. Playing along was my best chance of getting the information I needed for my report.

After it was written with impeccable sources and documentation, I would blow the lid off the story and inform the world of the injustices in the educational system.

The secretary interrupted my thoughts. “Miss Wilson, Provost Shires will see you now.”

“Thank you,” I said and walked to the private office door. I knocked twice, and a woman’s voice told me to come in.

I opened the door and entered a room with one of the largest desks I’d ever seen. Behind the desk, a petite older woman wearing a beige pantsuit scowled at me.

Her steel gray hair was cut into a chin-length bob, and her ice-blue eyes studied me from behind frameless glasses.

“Miss Wilson, sit down. We need to talk,” Provost Shires said. Like her, her voice was stiff and commanding.

Her demeanor made me want to rebel against the unfair use of her authority. But I had a goal to achieve, and it would be much harder to accomplish if I was thrown out of school.

I sat in front of the ginormous desk and waited for her to speak.

She steepled her fingers. “It was reported to me that you are stirring up trouble among the students by insisting the university isn’t diverse enough.”

“I …I didn’t mean to say anything offensive,” I said. “It was just an observation.”

The desk phone buzzed, and Provost Shires made an exasperated sound before answering it. “I’ll be right there,” she barked into the phone.

She handed me a paper and stood. “You can see we do have Betas and hybrid students who were able to make the academic cut. Excuse me, I'll be back in a few minutes.”

I watched her leave the room before reading what was on the paper. It was a short list of Beta and hybrid students enrolled at Frampton University.

I recognized two of the names. One of the Beta students had parents who won millions in a lottery.

The other Beta’s mother was a maid whose employer left her a fortune after she took care of the older woman for years.

I’d bet every beta or hybrid on this list is from families who acquired wealth from rare circumstances.

I whipped out my phone and took a photo of the list. I would research the rest of the names at home without anyone at Frampton U knowing about it.

My investigation was officially on! I had to be clever and an excellent actress to attain all the information I needed to get the scoop. But I was confident I could do it.

Provost Shires returned to her office a few seconds after I returned my phone to my pocket and sat quietly, examining the list she had given me.

“I hope that list satisfies any concerns you may have,” Provost Shires said as she sat behind her desk.

“Yes, it has.” I smiled and handed her the paper. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied. “I hope we don’t need to have this talk again, Daisy. It would be a shame to lose you at Frampton University. Please give your father my best.”

I stood. “Yes, ma’am.” I knew I had been dismissed, so I left her office and hurried to my next class.

Dr. Eileen Clark was the Journalistic Ethics professor. A tall, robust woman, she taught her class with vigor and good humor.

The class size in the Kensington Building was much smaller than The History of Journalism. Since I was the last student to get to class, only one seat was left.

The seat was next to the guy who argued with Professor Mallory in my last class. He nodded and gave me a shy smile as I slid into the chair.

Dr. Clark was engaging. Her way of teaching captured my attention and imagination.

She never told a student they were wrong. Instead, she led them to that conclusion and let them discover it for themselves.

“My office door is open from three to five every afternoon for anyone with questions,” she announced as the class ended.

Then, it was time to move on to News Reporting in the Logan Building with Dr. Westin Cooper.

Dr. Cooper had been a reporter for a major newspaper in another city. He was a competent teacher and journalist, but he taught a curriculum that was also Alpha-centric.

But I liked him much more than I did Dr.Mallory. The difference between Dr. Cooper and Dr. Mallory was easy to spot if you watched their eyes.

Dr. Mallory didn’t want any students except Alphas in his class, while Dr. Cooper was willing to teach anyone who wanted to learn.

I made many notes about information gathering and interviewing sources while listening to Dr. Cooper’s lecture. His experience would be invaluable during any investigation I worked on.

Dr. Cooper told us to review our notes for a quiz on Friday before dismissing the class.

I walked out of the classroom and ran into the girls I sat with at lunch on the building's front steps.

I called out their names as I passed. They appeared surprised to see me still on campus. Only the two Mikaylas seemed happy about it.

“I’m glad you’re still here, Daisy,” one of them said.

I smiled, hoping I could lie convincingly. “Of course, I’m still here. Provost Shires and I had a lovely talk. She’s such a nice woman.”

“Provost Shires …nice,” Iris repeated, and the girls broke into laughter.

I shrugged. “She was nice to me. I’m sorry if you girls have a problem with her.”

I would say whatever I had to in order to stay enrolled at Frampton U. Was it wrong? Maybe. Lying usually was. But it was for a good cause.

They turned down my best friend, not because she was intellectually inferior, but because she wasn’t born with pure Alpha blood.

And look what they did to Heather. I was tired of Alphas keeping Betas and Omegas trapped in service roles for their benefit.

A less educated workforce can be easily manipulated to keep the rich growing richer while they continue to struggle through life.

I had to do whatever was necessary to stop the cycle from continuing. Yet, lying pricked my conscience.

But I forced myself to smile again at the Mikaylas and decided to walk around campus to think before driving home.

I wandered aimlessly for a few minutes. I wasn’t sure if I should feel good about my actions. Did reporters do anything for a story?

No. Reporters had ethics, too. I was being taught this in one of my classes.

I suddenly knew who I had to talk to and changed course for the Kensington Building. It was after three o’clock. My Ethics professor was in her office, available for questions.

Well, I had a good one for her.