Chapter 11: The True
1109 Words
12:00 AM – 1:00 AM | The Grind Coffee Shop
I clocked in with red eyes and mascara that refused to come off.
Lena hugged me before I left. "Text me if you need to leave early."
I shook my head. "I need the tips."
It was a slow Tuesday.
Espresso shots. Oat milk. Fake smiles.
By 12:30 a.m., my feet were killing me. By 1:00 a.m., I was counting my drawer.
Eighty-six dollars in tips.
Enough for groceries.
I was wiping down the last table when the bell above the door chimed.
I looked up.
Mona.
Crestwood's golden girl.
Student council president.
Max's... situationship? Girlfriend? Honestly, I didn't know. They were always together. Last spring she'd posted pictures of them with the caption Couple Goals.
Tonight, she wasn't wearing her Crestwood hoodie.
She was dressed in black from head to toe, her blonde hair clipped into a claw clip.
And the look on her face told me she hadn't come for coffee.
She didn't even glance at the menu.
"Mira," she said.
"Hello."
"Can we talk? Outside."
My manager looked over from the counter and gave me a small nod.
I followed her into the alley behind the café.
The cold night air hit my face.
Mona folded her arms across her chest.
"I looked you up."
I frowned.
"I looked into everything," she continued. "Your background. Your scholarship. The Bennett Fund."
My stomach dropped.
"So... what does that have to do with you?" I asked, fighting to keep my voice steady.
"Don't interrupt me."
She stepped closer.
"I don't care if you're broke. I don't care if you needed the money."
Her eyes narrowed.
"But you need to stay away from Max."
I blinked.
"What? Max and I aren't even friends."
She laughed without humor.
"Max would never choose someone like you. He has a type. He has a life. A world. And you don't belong in it."
I clenched my jaw.
"He's only helping you because he feels guilty," she continued. "You're just another project to him. The moment things get complicated, he'll walk away. That's what he always does."
Anger rushed through me.
"First of all, you have no right to come here talking to me about Max because we are not even friends. Second, Max has never done anything for me that would make me think I'm some kind of project."
She stared at me for a second.
"Oh, don't pretend."
My eyebrows furrowed.
"Pretend what?"
"That you don't know."
My heartbeat quickened.
"Know what?"
"That Max is the donor."
Everything around me seemed to stop.
"...What?"
"The Bennett Fund," she said slowly, watching my face. "Max funded it."
"No..."
"He paid for your scholarship."
I shook my head.
"You're lying."
"Am I?"
She smiled—a cruel, satisfied smile.
"So tell me..." she said softly. "What exactly did you give him in return?"
I stared at her.
"I didn't know," I whispered.
She searched my face for a moment.
Then her smile disappeared.
"You really didn't know."
Without saying another word, I turned around and walked back inside the café.
I couldn't stay out there another second.
I grabbed my cleaning cloth and started wiping the tables again, but my hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Max is the donor.
The Bennett Fund...
My scholarship...
Everything.
How could he do that?
Why wouldn't he tell me?
Was I just some charity case to him?
Some responsibility?
Some project he wanted to fix?
Who did he think he was?
My phone buzzed.
Lena: You good, girl?
My fingers flew across the screen.
Me: Max is the donor!
A second later, she replied.
Lena: How did you find out?
I looked toward the front windows, making sure no customers had walked in.
Me: I'll tell you everything when I get home.
I slipped my phone back into my apron.
Only two tables left.
Then my shift would be oven.
1:45 AM – Lena's and Mera's Apartment | Kitchen
I burst through the front door, my keys trembling in my hand.
Lena was already awake.
A mug of tea sat on the kitchen table, waiting for me.
The moment she saw my face, she pulled me into a hug.
"Talk to me."
I collapsed into a chair, exhausted.
"Mona came to the café tonight."
Lena's expression immediately changed.
"What happened?"
"She told me..." My voice cracked. "She told me Max is the donor. The one behind the Bennett Fund. The twenty-eight thousand dollars."
The tears I'd been holding back all night finally spilled over.
"I didn't know, Lena."
She knelt beside me.
"Oh, Mira..."
"I had the worst shift." I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "I went in with red eyes. Worked until one in the morning. I only made eighty-six dollars in tips."
Lena stayed quiet, letting me speak.
"I called my mom on the way here," I whispered. "I told her I had a rough shift and that I was scared about tuition."
"You told her about Max?"
I shook my head quickly.
"No."
"You told her about Mona?"
"No."
"I didn't tell her anything about the fund... or Max. She just thinks I'm overwhelmed because of money."
My phone buzzed on the table.
Mom: Baby, come home. We need to talk.
I stared at the screen.
"My mom doesn't know anything," I said quietly. "She doesn't know about Carter... or the Bennett Fund. She still thinks I'm just struggling to pay for school."
Lena sat beside me.
"That's actually a good thing."
I looked at her.
"It means you're not dealing with two problems at once."
I let out a shaky breath.
"But Max hasn't texted me."
"Not once."
Lena's face softened.
"Oh, Mira..."
"What?"
"When powerful families get involved, they usually go quiet. No texts. No calls. Sometimes they think they're protecting everyone by saying nothing."
I shot up from my chair.
"I never asked him to pay my tuition!" I cried. "He had no right to do that without telling me. I'm not some charity case."
My voice broke.
"And what hurts even more..." I swallowed hard. "Mona made it sound like I slept with him to get that money."
The words made me feel sick.
I buried my face in my hands.
"I don't even know what I did wrong, Lena."
"I didn't ask for his money."
"I didn't even know it existed."
Lena reached over and gently squeezed my hand.
"I know."
Her voice was calm and steady.
"And we're going to figure this out."
She gave my hand another reassuring squeeze.
"But first..."
She nodded toward my phone.
"You need to go talk to your mom."
- Writer
