When my expression didn't waver, she pointed at me, voice dripping venom.
"We'll see who's crying when the coffin lid closes!"
A group of uniformed investigators approached, one of them holding up a USB drive.
"This contains the complete footage—the painting process and the submission procedure. We're here to settle this once and for all."
The lead investigator turned to me. "You're Jack Gilbert, the one who was reported?" His tone was clinical. "I'll ask you one final time: Did you swap someone else's artwork to secure guaranteed admission?"
Cliff and Bonnie exchanged gleeful looks, practically vibrating with anticipation as they waited for the footage to destroy me.
I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw my own brain.
"I was granted exceptional admission last year," I said flatly, spreading my hands. "Why would I swap paintings to get admitted... again?"
