Whitmore sat down.
"I have."
Elias left.
He thought that was the end.
But the next morning, he received an email.
It contained three sentences.
"Your submission to the symposium review committee has been flagged for academic misconduct.
You are required to attend a disciplinary meeting.
Bring all supporting materials."
Elias read the email twice.
Then a third time.
He had never submitted anything.
Someone had apparently taken the equations from his notebook and entered them into a university research system.
The accusation was plagiarism.
By noon, everyone knew.
By three, rumors had spread through the physics department.
Some said Elias had stolen Whitmore's unpublished work.
Others said he had copied from a graduate student's thesis.
One person claimed he had purchased the solution online.
Nobody asked Elias.
Nobody except Professor Nguyen.
She found him sitting alone in the library.
"Elias."
He looked up.
"Professor."
She sat across from him.
"Tell me what happened."
"I don't know."
"Did you submit anything?"
"No."
"Did anyone have access to your notebooks?"
Elias thought.
"My room."
"Who?"
"My landlord has a key."
"Anyone at the university?"
"Not that I know of."
Nguyen leaned forward.
"Look at me."
Elias did.
"I don't believe you cheated."
His eyes became wet.
"Thank you."
"But believing you isn't enough."
"I know."
"We need evidence."
Elias nodded.
He opened his backpack.
"I have everything."
"What?"
"All my notebooks."
He placed them on the table.
There were twelve.
Nguyen stared.
"You kept all of them?"
"Every page."
"Why?"
Elias smiled faintly.
"Because I forget things."
She opened the first notebook.
The pages contained months of work.
Ideas developed gradually.
Errors.
Corrections.
Different approaches.
The same equation appeared dozens of times.
Each version was slightly different.
Nguyen turned another page.
"This predates Whitmore's paper."
Elias nodded.
"Yes."
She looked at the date.
Six months earlier.
She looked at him.
"This could clear you."
"I hope so."
But the university disciplinary committee had already reached a preliminary conclusion.
They believed Elias had copied Professor Whitmore's work.
The committee scheduled a hearing for Friday afternoon.
Elias was terrified.
Not because he believed he was guilty.
Because he understood how difficult it would be to prove innocence when everyone had already decided what kind of person he was.
On Friday, the faculty auditorium was full.
Professors filled the front rows.
Graduate students sat behind them.
The university president was present.
So was Professor Whitmore.
Elias sat alone at a small table.
His twelve notebooks were stacked beside him.
The committee chair opened the meeting.
"Mr. Carter, you have been accused of submitting mathematical work substantially similar to unpublished research belonging to Professor Adrian Whitmore."
Elias swallowed.
"Yes."
"Do you deny the accusation?"
"I deny cheating."
The chair nodded.
"Professor Whitmore?"
Whitmore stood.
"I believe Mr. Carter possesses remarkable mathematical ability."
Elias looked at him.
That was unexpected.
Whitmore continued.
"Unfortunately, ability does not prove originality."
He turned toward the committee.
"The material in question closely resembles concepts from my ongoing research."
Elias's hands tightened.
Whitmore displayed several equations.
The similarities were obvious.
Murmurs spread through the room.
Then Whitmore said:
"The simplest explanation is that Mr. Carter obtained access to my research and reproduced it."
Elias stood.
"That's not true."
The chair raised a hand.
"Please remain seated."
"But—"
"Mr. Carter."
Elias sat.
Professor Nguyen stood.
"I would like to submit additional evidence."
The committee reviewed her documents.
"They show that Mr. Carter developed several portions of the disputed mathematics before Professor Whitmore's current paper was circulated."
Whitmore interrupted.
"Drafts can be fabricated."
Nguyen turned.
"These notebooks were maintained continuously."
"That proves nothing."
The chair looked at Elias.
"Do you have anything else?"
Elias looked at the twelve notebooks.
Then he remembered something.
"Yes."
He reached into his bag.
He pulled out an old phone.
"I recorded myself working."
Several people laughed.
Elias looked embarrassed.
"I talk to myself when I work."
The chair frowned.
"Is there a date?"
"Yes."
Elias connected the phone to the projector.
The first video appeared.
It was grainy.
The room in the video was his apartment.