"I believe in her too." Stella couldn't take her eyes off Charlotte as she walked away, pride written all over her face. "Charlotte just knows so much. I’ve never met a girl smarter than her."

Andrew wiped the sweat from his forehead and swallowed, still a little shook. "Is there anything Charlotte can't do?"

Parrish glanced over, his tone lazy. "Yeah. She can’t fall for you."

Andrew went quiet.

***

Everyone in the room tracked Charlotte as she headed for the stage. Nobody had a clue what she was about to do. Her gorgeous face was set in a look so icy it almost took your breath away. Gorgeous, sure, but with an edge that said she wasn’t someone to mess with. She looked ready for a fight.

"Charlotte, you..." Mr. Lane’s face had gone totally pale. He stared at her in shock, his voice low and shaky. "What’s going on? Are you really Dr. Cole?"

"Yeah, that’s me." Charlotte shrugged and gave him a careless smile. "Why? Do I not look the part?"

Mr. Lane pressed a hand to his forehead and staggered backward. Only his assistant kept him from toppling over. "Wait, hang on. I need a second to process all this."

"Take your time." Charlotte’s lips curled into a small smile. "I’ll wait."

She turned back to the audience and walked toward the center of the stage, all eyes glued to her.

"You..."

The host, who’d come out to try and smooth things over, clutched the mic and just stared at her, completely lost.

"Mind if I use that?" Charlotte reached out, one eyebrow lifted.

"Sure." The host handed it over without a second thought, probably because Charlotte’s stare was so intense.

"Thanks." Charlotte took the mic and walked over to the three winners. Her eyes paused on Shirley’s shocked face, then landed on Beck.

"You want proof?"

She raised the mic and her cool, clear voice filled the whole auditorium.

Beck felt a jolt of panic, cold sweat prickling down his back. No way. She can’t be Dr. Cole.

"That’s right!" Beck forced himself to stand tall. His fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white, and sweat beaded at the tip of his nose. "If you can’t prove it, then Shirley cheated. She should lose every award and her shot at any scholarship!"

Charlotte let out a little sound, almost like a laugh, and unzipped her backpack. She pulled out a tablet, unlocked it, and handed it to Beck.

"You raised the question. You prove it."

She stepped back, scanning the audience with narrowed eyes. "No rush. Take all the time you need."

The second she finished speaking, the big screen behind them lit up with the contents of Charlotte’s tablet. The very first page was the manuscript for her research—already the winner of multiple international awards, even though it hadn’t been published yet.

It was a draft. Handwritten, with the same distinctive writing that everyone knew belonged to Dr. Cole. You could see all the edits and corrections, every mark and revision.

Beck stared at the screen, totally stunned. It was like he’d been hit by lightning.

The original manuscript... This was Dr. Cole’s original manuscript. How did Charlotte have it?

The audience started whispering and looking at each other.

Beck kept scrolling, desperate to find something—anything—that would prove her wrong. But the more he scrolled, the more his hands shook. There were drafts not just for the latest work, but for her previous books too.

It didn’t make sense. It couldn’t be...

"Are you really Dr. Cole?"

Beck was frozen, his whole body stiff. He turned his head, eyes trembling as he looked at Charlotte on the stage.

Charlotte lifted her chin, those clear eyes narrowing just a bit. Her lips parted in a small, dangerous smile. "Of course."