Chapter 4: The Name Beneath the Submission
Ms. Whitmore clicked the document details.
I leaned closer to the screen.
For a moment, I couldn't understand what I was looking at.
The file Cameron had uploaded wasn't just a basketball poster. It was a complete portfolio submission containing several photographs, descriptions, and an artist statement.
My brother had submitted his work under my student account.
And the recipient wasn't just my art teacher.
It was the Detroit Youth Arts Scholarship Committee.
I felt my stomach drop.
“Wait,” I whispered.
“What is that?””
Ms. Whitmore adjusted her glasses.
“This is the scholarship application I told your class about last month.””
I nodded slowly.
I'd known about the scholarship since September. The winner would receive a $5,000 award, mentorship with a local artist, and an opportunity to display their work at a downtown Detroit gallery.
I'd spent months preparing.
My grandmother's portrait was supposed to be the centerpiece.
“Why would Cameron submit something here?””
Ms. Whitmore scrolled down.
“Let's look at the submission history.””
There were three entries.
The first showed my original portfolio, submitted two weeks earlier.
The second showed an attempted replacement.
The third showed a confirmation.
<text color="secondary" size="xs" weight="medium">SUBMISSION ACTIVITY</text>
- 11:47 p.m. — Student account accessed. - 11:52 p.m.
— Portfolio document replaced. - 11:54 p.m. — Replacement submission confirmed.
My fingers tightened around the edge of the desk.
“Can he actually do that?””
Ms. Whitmore shook her head.
“He shouldn't have access to your account. And he certainly shouldn't submit someone else's work as his own.””
“But the application has his name.””
“That's what concerns me.””
She opened the artist statement.
The first paragraph made my throat close.
My passion for art began with my grandmother, who taught me that creativity is a gift that should be shared with the world.
I read it twice.
Those were my words.
Not exactly, but close enough.
I'd written something similar in my original portfolio statement.
Cameron had copied the idea and changed a few sentences.
Then I noticed something else.
The document included a photograph of Grandma Evelyn's portrait.
Not the torn version.
The finished photograph from my phone.
My brother had taken it.
I looked at Ms. Whitmore.
“He used my picture.””
She nodded.
“Do you have the original photograph with its timestamp?””
“Yes.””
“Keep it. Don't delete anything.””
My phone vibrated.
A message from Dad.
*DAD: How is the review going, sweetheart?*
I stared at the screen before replying.
*ME: Dad, Cameron submitted his portfolio using my school account. He used Grandma's portrait and my artist statement.*
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
*DAD: Don't leave school yet. I'm coming.*
I looked up.
Ms. Whitmore had already begun documenting the submission history.
“Imani, I want to make sure you understand that you are not in trouble. We can flag this as an unauthorized account change.””
“What if the scholarship committee already saw it?””
“Then we'll contact them with the evidence.””
I nodded, but my mind was somewhere else.
Cameron had known exactly what he was doing.
He hadn't simply wanted my place on the wall.
He wanted my place in the scholarship competition.
And he had used the one person I loved most to make his submission look meaningful.
Twenty minutes later, Dad walked into the art room.
He was still wearing his work boots and carrying his lunch bag.
“Where is it?””
Ms. Whitmore turned the laptop toward him.
“This is the submission activity.””
Dad read the screen.
His jaw tightened.
Then he looked at me.
“Did you give Cameron your password?””
“No.””
“Did you ask him to help with your application?””
“No, Dad.””
He nodded.
“I believe you.””
Ms. Whitmore explained the situation, showing him the original submission, the replacement file, and the account history.
Dad remained quiet until she finished.
Then he asked, “Can we prove the original work belonged to Imani?””
Ms. Whitmore pointed to the earlier submission date.
“Her original portfolio was uploaded under her account two weeks before this replacement. We also have her progress photographs and the physical drawing.””
Dad looked at the torn portrait.
For a moment, he seemed unable to speak.
Then he turned to me.
“Your brother took something from you twice.””
I looked down.
“First the picture. Then the opportunity.””
Dad nodded slowly.
“I'm not letting either disappear without a fight.””
Ms. Whitmore closed the laptop.
“I'll send the documentation to the scholarship committee today.””
Dad thanked her.
As we walked toward the parking lot, my phone rang.
Mom.
I answered.
“Hello?””
“Where are you?””
“At school.””
“Your brother just told me you're accusing him of stealing his work.””
I stopped walking.
Dad turned toward me.
“Mom, he used my account.””
“Cameron said you gave him permission.””
“I didn't.””
“He says you showed him your portfolio and told him he could use some of your ideas.””
“That isn't true.””
There was a pause.
Then Rochelle lowered her voice.
“Imani, you need to understand something. Your brother has been trying to get his life together. He needs this opportunity.””
I stared at the school parking lot.
“So did I.””
“He's older. He has responsibilities.””
“He's twenty, Mom. I'm seventeen.””
“And that means you should know when to help your family.””
My eyes burned.
“Why does helping Cameron always mean losing something myself?””
She went silent.
Then she said something that made my father take the phone from my hand.
“Because sometimes, Imani, one child needs more than the other.””
Dad looked directly at me.
Then he spoke into the phone.
“Rochelle, we're coming home. And this time, Cameron is going to explain everything in front of both of us.””
He ended the call.
I followed him to the car.
But as we pulled away, another notification appeared on my phone.
It was an email from the scholarship committee.
*SUBJECT: APPLICATION REVIEW — CAMERON RUSSELL*
The message contained one sentence that made my blood run cold.
We are pleased to inform you that your submitted portfolio has advanced to the final review stage.
May you like
My brother hadn't just tried to steal my application.
He might already have succeeded.
