Chapter 5 - The Question Preston Couldn’t Answer
The anonymous complaint arrived at 5:42 p.m.
I was in the compliance office reviewing score certification when Professor Reed entered holding a tablet.
“Mara.”
His tone told me immediately.
“What happened?”
“We received an integrity report.”
“Against whom?”
He hesitated.
“Eli and Ethan.”
My stomach dropped.
The complaint alleged that both boys had received unauthorized access to competition materials through me.
It claimed I had used my position as compliance chair to help my children prepare for confidential final-round questions.
The accusation was absurd.
But absurd accusations can destroy reputations before facts catch up.
“Source?”
“Anonymous.”
“Evidence?”
“None attached.”
Julian looked exhausted.
“But because you’re their mother and board chair…”
“I’m recused.”
“Completely.”
I stood.
“Who handles investigation?”
“I do.”
“Good.”
He nodded.
“Mara, go be their mother.”
For once, I didn’t argue.
The boys were eating sandwiches in a side conference room when I found them.
Ethan took one look at my face.
“What happened?”
I closed the door.
“Someone filed an integrity complaint.”
Eli put down his sandwich.
“Against us?”
“Yes.”
“Claim?”
“That I leaked competition materials.”
Silence.
Then Ethan laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was ridiculous.
“You don’t even keep documents at home.”
“I know.”
“You won’t tell us what restaurants judges choose because you say it creates ‘relationship optics.’”
“I know.”
Eli’s face remained serious.
“What happens?”
“Professor Reed investigates.”
“Can we still compete?”
“For now.”
Ethan leaned back.
“Who filed it?”
“Anonymous.”
He looked toward the wall.
We were all thinking the same name.
Nathan.
But suspicion was not evidence.
“Don’t assume anything,” I said.
Ethan gave me a look.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You have a very loud face.”
Eli almost smiled.
A knock came.
Preston entered.
He looked nervous.
“Can I talk to you?”
Ethan gestured to a chair.
“Apparently we’re collecting brothers now.”
“Ethan.”
“What? Too soon?”
Preston actually laughed.
Then his face became serious again.
“I heard about the complaint.”
“How?” I asked.
“My dad.”
That got my attention.
“When?”
“About ten minutes ago.”
The boys looked at each other.
I kept my voice calm.
“How did Nathan know?”
“I assumed everyone knew.”
“No.”
I stood.
“The complaint is confidential during preliminary review.”
Preston’s eyes widened.
“He said somebody finally noticed the obvious conflict.”
My pulse quickened.
“Exact words?”
Preston thought.
“He said, ‘Someone finally had enough sense to report what everybody can see.’”
Ethan whispered, “Wow.”
“Did he say he filed it?”
“No.”
I believed Preston.
He looked frightened enough already.
“What else?”
Preston rubbed his palms against his pants.
“He told me not to talk to Eli or Ethan anymore.”
“Why?”
“He said they’re trying to use me.”
Eli frowned.
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
Ethan leaned forward.
“Are you okay?”
Again Preston looked surprised by the question.
“I don’t know.”
He hesitated.
“There’s something else.”
Nobody spoke.
Preston swallowed.
“Dad made me practice competition problems all summer.”
“That’s normal,” Eli said.
“Not these.”
Preston removed his phone.
He scrolled through photographs.
Then held one up.
It showed a whiteboard covered with equations.
Eli stood.
“That’s Question Four from today.”
My heart stopped.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Eli took the phone.
“That optimization constraint is identical.”
Preston’s face went white.
“I thought it was from an old problem set.”
I took the phone carefully.
“When was this photograph taken?”
“July.”
Three months before the championship.
I felt cold.
“Who gave your father those problems?”
Preston shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“Did he tell you?”
“No.”
Ethan stood beside his brother.
“Could be coincidence.”
Eli shook his head.
“Not with that constraint set.”
Preston looked sick.
“I didn’t know.”
“I believe you,” I said immediately.
His eyes filled.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Because I knew what guilt looked like.
And Preston’s was not the guilt of someone caught cheating.
It was the horror of someone realizing he might have been used.
I sent a message to Julian.
Come immediately.
He arrived two minutes later.
We showed him the photograph.
His expression changed.
“Mara.”
“I know.”
“This can’t stay informal.”
“I know.”
Preston stood.
“Am I disqualified?”
Julian looked at him carefully.
“Not automatically.”
“But I saw the question.”
“Possibly.”
“I practiced it.”
“If it was leaked without your knowledge, intent matters.”
Preston shook his head.
“That doesn’t make it fair.”
No sixteen-year-old should have needed that much integrity.
Julian asked permission to copy the image.
Preston agreed.
Then another message appeared on Preston’s phone.
From Nathan.
WHERE ARE YOU?
Preston stared.
Another came.
DO NOT SPEAK TO MARA.
Then a third.
I MEAN IT.
Ethan read the preview.
“That seems healthy.”
“Ethan,” Eli murmured.
Preston’s hands shook.
“What do I do?”
I wanted to say stay.
I wanted to protect him.
But he wasn’t mine to command.
“Tell the truth.”
He looked at me.
“No matter what?”
“No matter what.”
Preston nodded.
Then he walked out.
Ten minutes later, Nathan burst into the compliance office.
“You interrogated my son?”
Julian stood.
“No one interrogated anyone.”
Nathan pointed at me.
“You stay away from Preston.”
I looked at him.
“Nathan, how did you know about the complaint before it became public?”
Silence.
Tiny.
Barely noticeable.
But it was there.
Nathan recovered.
“People talk.”
Julian watched him.
“Who?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“It is now.”
Nathan’s eyes moved toward the tablet containing Preston’s photograph.
Something flickered across his face.
Recognition.
Fear.
I saw it.
So did Julian.
Nathan turned toward the door.
“I’m calling my attorney.”
“Good,” Julian said.
“You may want one.”
Nathan stopped.
For the first time all day, the confidence disappeared completely.
Because the investigation was no longer about whether I helped my sons.
It was about whether someone had secretly helped his.
May you like
And if Preston’s photograph was authentic, the championship had a much bigger problem than family drama.
Someone had leaked a confidential competition question months before the event.
