Truth

For days, Seraphine avoided Quinn like she was a ghost.

She buried herself in work, took lunches in the breakroom alone, and refused to meet her eyes during meetings. The office buzzed with whispers, but no one dared ask what happened.

Except Jason, who approached her cautiously one morning with a sealed envelope.

“Quinn asked me to give you this,” he said, frowning. “She said it’s important. That it explains everything.”

Seraphine stared at the envelope in silence. After a long pause, she took it, her fingers trembling.

Back at her desk, she hesitated before opening it. Her heart felt like it was caught in a vice.

Inside were photocopied documents. A university transcript. An email thread. A copy of the original cheating report.

And a name she hadn’t expected at all.

Talia Henson.

Mira’s old thesis partner.

Seraphine’s eyes widened as she read the email. It was addressed to Quinn, then just a student council rep from Talia, accusing Mira of plagiarism and claiming Mira had submitted her research behind her back.

But further down, another email revealed the truth.

Talia had forged the data.

When the panel questioned Mira, she’d taken the blame silently refusing to point fingers, afraid of ruining Talia’s future.

Mira had protected her.

Quinn, at the time, had simply followed protocol. She didn’t know the truth. She filed the report with the evidence she was given. She even recommended a formal investigation instead of immediate action.

Seraphine’s chest tightened.

She read a printed message taped to the last page.

“I never knew the whole story until later. I tried to reach Mira and apologize, but I never heard back. I kept the file, hoping someday, I could make it right. Not to defend myself, but to give you the truth.

—Quinn”

Tears slid silently down Seraphine’s cheeks.

She had blamed her.

Hated her.

And all this time, she’d been carrying the guilt for something she didn’t even do.

That evening, Seraphine stood outside a elegant Mansion on the edge of the city.

It had been three years since she last saw Mira.

The Maid led her to a courtyard where Mira sat reading a book, her short hair tucked behind her ears, her face calm, older, but stronger.

“Mira…” Seraphine whispered.

Her sister looked up in surprise, eyes wide.

“Raph?”

Tears spilled as the sisters embraced, holding each other like lifelines.

They talked for hours. About the past. About Talia. About Quinn.

And then Mira said something that struck Seraphine like lightning.

“I never blamed Quinn,” Mira said softly. “She did what she was supposed to do. I blamed myself… for trusting the wrong friend. And for staying silent.”

Seraphine’s heart clenched.

All this time, the truth had been buried beneath silence and pride.

Two days later, Seraphine knocked on Quinn’s office door.

She looked up, startled, then stood when she saw her.

“I read everything,” she said. “I spoke to Mira.”

A pause.

“You were right.”

She blinked. “You mean...”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Her voice broke. “I’m sorry for blaming you. For being cruel. I should’ve asked… not assumed.”

She let out a breath, relief washing over her face like sunlight. “I’m just glad you know now.”

They stood in silence for a moment.

Then she stepped forward and said something she never thought she’d say again.