My Study Group Tried To Frame Me For Cheating During Our Final Exam — Until The Professor Pulled Out The Hidden Footage
Part 2
I sat in the sweltering heat of my car for an hour.
I could not drive home.
I could not face my parents and explain that my scholarship was gone because I studied with the wrong people.
The leather of the steering wheel felt sticky against my palms.
Turning the key in the ignition, the engine sputtered to life.
My foot remained firmly planted on the brake.
Killing the engine again, a sudden wave of resolve washed over me.
There was no way Megan, Tyler, and Craig were going to win this easily.
Grabbing my backpack from the passenger seat, I marched purposefully back across the sweltering parking lot.
The campus was mostly empty now.
I pushed open the door to the math building.
Professor Carter was still sitting at her desk when I reached her office.
She looked up from her computer screen.
“Is there anything else?” I asked.
I leaned against the doorframe to keep my legs from shaking.
“Any other cameras?”
I stepped into the room.
“Any way to prove I didn’t do it?”
She shook her head slowly.
“I am sorry.”
She pointed toward the hallway.
“The cameras out there only cover the exit doors.”
She pulled her glasses off and set them on the desk.
“They do not cover the inside of the lecture hall.”
I stared at the carpet.
I nodded once.
I turned to leave.
“Wait,” she said.
The sudden sharpness in her voice made me stop.
I looked back.
She opened the bottom drawer of her desk.
“There was a major cheating incident in the spring semester.”
She pulled out a thick envelope.
“The university approved new security measures over the summer.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
She pulled a flash drive from the envelope.
“Cameras were installed inside the lecture halls last week.”
She plugged the drive into her computer.
“They have not been formally announced yet.”
She turned her monitor toward me.
A video file was playing on the screen.
It was a wide-angle shot of the entire classroom from the ceiling corner.
The resolution was crystal clear.
There was me, sitting in the middle row.
My phone was sitting face down on the top right corner of my desk.
It remained there for the entire exam.
I watched myself working out the math, occasionally glancing down at the calculator resting on my lap.
I never touched the phone.
“Look at the third row,” Professor Carter said.
I shifted my focus to the top left of the screen.
Megan was sitting two rows over from me.
She stopped writing.
She stared directly at the back of my head.
Then she leaned forward and wrote something on a piece of scratch paper.
She slid the paper to Tyler.
Tyler read it.
He looked up at me.
He nodded and wrote something back.
They were actively building their case against me while I sat there taking a test.
“I am forwarding this to the dean,” Professor Carter said quietly.
She minimized the window.
“All three of them will be meeting with the academic integrity board tomorrow.”
She looked up at me.
“Filing a false accusation is an expulsion-level offense.”
I let out a breath I had been holding for two hours.
But having proof of my innocence was only half the battle—what was the university going to do to the three students who tried to destroy my life?
