Chapter 94

Shock registered across every face as the host's announcement echoed through the hall.

Instead of the enthusiastic cheers meant for a champion, the audience's applause faltered, uncertain,with students taking a moment to absorb what had just happened.

Stetson's congratulatory smile vanished, his hand unconsciously creasing the certificate meant for the top winner. The young woman he'd dismissed as a non -threat had walked off with the highest honor. How could that possibly be? Where was the justice in this outcome?

"Impossible..." The words slipped out, barely audible.

Without warning, he sprang to his feet, voice slicing through the uneasy silence. "There's something wrong here!"

A hush fell over the crowd as the host cleared his throat and addressed him with visible discomfort,asking, "Is there a problem, Professor Ahmed?"

Fuming,Stetson marched up to the front, his outrage plain for all to see. "I refuse to accept this decision!How can a mere undergraduate-someone not even finished with her degree - overshadow the painstaking work of veteran professors?"

The audience buzzed, a low tide of whispers sweeping through the room.

Not missing her chance, Stacey stood too and lent her voice to the protest. "Professor Ahmed makes a valid point! Rylie's data isn't transparent, and her experiment was completed far too quickly for these results to be reliable. This isn't what a gold award looks like!"

Turning her attention to the panel of judges, Stacey continued, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears,"Academic honesty is the heart of science. We can't let opportunists drag down the reputation we've built here!"

Her impassioned plea struck a chord, and a ripple of agreement passed through the hall. Someone in the back leaned toward their neighbor and whispered,"Seriously, have you heard the latest? Rylie was booted out by the Kirks own family, only to get picked up by the wealthiest folks in town."

"Is it possible that Rylie's connection to the Owen family tipped the scales, landing her that gold award?"

"That crosses a line. Medicine isn't some schoolyard contest-lives hang in the balance."

Murmurs intensified as tension rippled through the crowd, with the judges quietly conferring among themselves.

A senior panelist finally addressed the room,his brow furrowed. "Professor Ahmed,let me assure you, all submissions were evaluated anonymously, and the review process was exceptionally thorough.There was no bias."

Stetson's tone was biting. "If that's true, then how did she gather her data? Are we really to believe an undergraduate pulled off such advanced neural regeneration research alone?"

Curiosity swept the auditorium as every head swiveled in Rylie's direction.

Unbothered, she twirled a pen between her fingers,radiating calm.

One of the judges leaned forward, addressing her directly, saying, "Miss Owen, would you care to walk us through your methodology?"

Rylie placed her pen down with quiet confidence,rising from her seat at an unhurried pace. Rather than heading straight to the stage, she met Stetson's stare with a mysterious smile. "Professor Ahmed, I welcome the chance to answer any concerns. Please, stop me at any point if something isn't clear."

Taken aback by her poise, Stetson managed to regain his composure. "You talk a good game. But if you can't give a solid explanation, that's proof the results are bogus!"

A gentle nod preceded her next move as Rylie reached into her bag and pulled out a USB drive."Let's walk through it together. I'll lay out every step for you all."

Without hesitation, Rylie cast her research findings onto the auditorium's main screen, filling it with graphs, time-stamped lab reports, and the full timeline of her work.

She addressed the audience with measured confidence. "Although I drafted the paper over a couple of days, the actual data collection spanned almost two months." Step by step, she outlined how she identified a rare patient for sampling, then backed up each stage of her methodology with precise figures and documented evidence.

Layer upon layer of advanced médical theory filled her presentation, leaving undergraduates glancing at one another in confusion. In the faculty section,several Ph.D. advisors watched in silent awe.

Any suspicion of plagiarism crumbled, as her fluid delivery and quick, detailed answers to tough questions made it clear she knew the material inside out.

The clarity in her voice and the command she held over the material gradually won over many skeptics in the hall.

Stetson, looking even more unsettled, rose from his seat and tried to stump her with complex, borderline -hostile inquiries. Rylie addressed each challenge head -on,sometimes even expanding the conversation with innovative ideas and potential future research.

Impressed murmurs grew among the judges. Her grasp of the field and her willingness to push boundaries didn't go unnoticed.

But just as the room's tension began to dissolve, a quiet voice drifted through the rows, catching Stacey's attention.

One of the school's top students, poised to begin graduate studies, whispered, "Look at these results.One should realize that none of our school's standard equipment could produce this level of data in such a short timeframe. Where did Rylie do these experiments?"

A classmate nodded. "The university's gear is as good as it gets around here. If she used a private lab, those are heavily secured - nobody just walks in off the street."

When she heard this, Stacey's eyes flashed with a new sense of purpose. She sprang to her feet. "Rylie, you claim these results came from our school's equipment,but as far as I know, you'd need industry-grade machinery to reach those numbers in two months. Are you certain all this data is authentic?"

A soft laugh escaped Rylie as she pulled out her USB drive, then made her way to the media team manning the projection equipment.

Her abrupt detour left the tech group glancing at one another in confusion, but she leaned down, gesturing to their laptop. "Would you mind if I take over for a moment?"

Struck by her calm confidence, the students could only manage a wordless nod. "Go ahead," one finally stammered.

Seizing the controls, Rylie deftly accessed the lab's security archive, then quickly merged her experiment footage onto her USB drive. The entire process took less than three minutes.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere in the auditorium began to turn hostile.

Many in the crowd believed Rylie was retreating out of guilt, and accusations started flying from all directions.

A handful of Stetson's students - still bitter from being bested by Rylie back in Timothy's research group- sprang to their feet. "Revoke Rylie's award!Academic fraud has no place here! Justice for Professor Ahmed! He deserves the top honor!"

Their rallying cries swelled as others joined, and Stacey's smile grew sharper. She leaned closer to Stetson and whispered with confidence, "You don't have to worry. No one is going to take what belongs to you."

Putting on a mask of grave concern, Stetson heaved a dramatic sigh. "Stacey, in research, honesty comes before all else. If there's been any dishonesty, it must be addressed with the utmost graveness..."