Chapter 6: The Phone Call That Changed Everything
I called the department head at nine o'clock the next morning.
Her name was Dr.
Eleanor Marsh.
I had met her once, briefly, at an orientation event in my first semester.
She had shaken my hand and said she was glad to see students of all backgrounds enrolling.
I had not thought much of it at the time.
It had sounded like something people said.
Her assistant put me through after a short wait.
"Mr.
Calloway," she said.
"Congratulations on your graduation yesterday.
What can I do for you?"
"I need to tell you something that happened after the ceremony," I said.
"I want to be straightforward about it."
"Please," she said.
I told her what Priya had told me.
I used Professor Holt's exact words, the ones Priya had been careful to repeat precisely.
I did not editorialize.
I did not raise my voice.
I simply said what had been said, and then I stopped.
The line was quiet for a moment.
"Mr.
Calloway, I want to ask you something," Dr.
Marsh said.
"The student who contacted you — are they willing to speak to me directly?"
"I believe so," I said.
"But I want to be clear about why I'm calling.
I'm not calling to get anyone in trouble.
I'm calling because that student took a risk to tell me the truth, and I think the institution should know that the truth needed to be told."
"I understand," she said.
"And I want to be equally clear with you.
What you've described, if accurate, is a serious matter.
Not simply because of what was said about you personally — though that is not nothing — but because Professor Holt assigned your thesis to his graduate seminar as an example of poor work.
That means your scholarship was used, without your knowledge, as a teaching tool for failure.
That is an academic integrity issue."
I had not thought of it that way.
I sat with it for a moment.
"I see," I said.
"I would like to meet with you in person," she said.
"This week, if possible.
And I would like to speak with the student separately, with your permission."
"You have it," I said.
I called Priya after I hung up.
She answered on the second ring.
"She wants to speak with you," I told her.
"You don't have to.
I want you to know that.
What you did was already enough."
"I'll speak with her," Priya said without hesitating.
"I knew what I was doing when I called you."
"You're not worried about Holt?"
A short pause.
"He's not my supervisor.
And even if he were — " Another pause.
"My grandmother went back to school at seventy-two.
She got a certificate in accounting.
My grandfather told her she was wasting her time." Her voice was even.
"She died knowing how to do her own taxes and his.
So no.
I'm not worried about Holt."
I sat at my kitchen table for a long time after that call.
The house was quiet.
Daniel had stayed the night on the sofa and was still asleep.
Paul had driven home with Lily at midnight, but not before Lily had made me promise to send her a list of my three favorite books.
I got up, made coffee, and started writing the list.
I was on the second book when Daniel appeared in the doorway, hair uneven, wearing yesterday's clothes.
"You're up early," he said.
"Couldn't sleep."
He poured himself a coffee and sat across from me.
He looked at the paper in front of me.
"What's that?"
"A list of books for Lily."
He was quiet for a moment.
Then: "Dad, I need to say something, and I need you to actually hear it."
I put the pen down.
"When you told us you were enrolling," he said, "I wasn't just angry about the money.
I was — " He stopped.
Looked at his coffee.
"I was scared.
You'd just lost Mom.
You were sixty-five.
And instead of — I don't know, staying close, staying where we could see you — you were going off to do this thing that felt so far away from us.
And I turned that fear into anger and aimed it at you, and that was wrong.
I know it was wrong."
"Daniel — "
"I'm not finished." He looked up.
"I missed three years with you.
Lily doesn't know you.
Paul's kids have a grandfather they've barely met.
And I did that.
I need you to know that I know I did that."
The kitchen was very still.
"I heard you," I said.
"Are we okay?"
I picked up the pen.
Added the third book to Lily's list.
"We're going to be okay," I said.
"That's different from already being okay.
But it's enough to start with."
Daniel nodded slowly.
He wrapped both hands around his mug.
"What happens with the professor?" he asked.
"I don't know yet," I said.
"But Dr.
Marsh is taking it seriously."
"Good." He paused.
"Mom would have had something to say about a man who shook your hand on a stage and laughed about you in a back room."
"She would have said it directly to his face," I said.
Daniel almost laughed.
It was the first real laugh I had heard from him in years, and it sounded so much like his mother that I had to look down at the paper for a moment.
"Yeah," he said.
"She absolutely would have."
Outside, the morning was grey and mild.
The roses in the garden were still.
And across the city, I later found out, Professor Holt had already received a message from Dr.
May you like
Marsh's office requesting a meeting at his earliest convenience.
He had not yet replied.
