He had never imagined that those strange frames would become so important.
“Mom,” he whispered, “do you think Dad would have wanted me to use them like this?”
She looked into his eyes.
“I think he would have wanted you to use them for the truth.”
The following Monday, Westbridge High School felt like a different place.
For the first time in years, Troy Maddox wasn’t walking its hallways.
Students who had once lowered their eyes when he approached now spoke openly about what he had done.
Maya found Leo near his locker.
“You’re famous.”
Leo groaned.
“Please don’t say that.”
“I’m serious.
Someone made a video edit of Troy flying over your shoulder.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“For Troy, maybe.”
She smiled, then grew serious.
“My brother called last night.”
Leo looked up.
“He heard what happened?”
“Everybody heard.”
“How is he?”
“He’s doing better.”
Maya hesitated.
“He asked me to thank you.”
Leo shook his head.
“I didn’t do anything for him.”
“That’s not true.”
She stepped closer.
“His complaint was reopened this morning.
The district wants to interview him.”
Leo felt a quiet warmth in his chest.
“That’s good.”
Maya studied him.
“There’s something I don’t understand.”
“What?”
“Why did you transfer here?”
Leo closed his locker.
“My mom got a job in Atlanta.”
“That’s why you moved.
Not why you chose Westbridge.”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Maya’s eyes narrowed.
“You knew about Troy before you came, didn’t you?”
Leo looked toward the end of the hallway.
Students passed beneath the security cameras.
“Not everything,” he said.
“Leo.”
He sighed.
“My father believed patterns matter.”
“Patterns?”
“One person getting hurt might be an accident.
Two might be coincidence.
But when the same people keep getting hurt and the same authorities keep making excuses, something is wrong.”
Maya stared at him.
“You’re talking about the school.”
“Maybe.”
Before she could ask another question, Leo’s phone vibrated.
A message appeared from Dr.
Carter.
We need to discuss something important.
Please come to the district office with your mother after school.
Leo read it twice.
Maya noticed his expression.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
But something about the message unsettled him.
It didn’t sound like an invitation to celebrate.
The district office occupied the upper floors of a glass building overlooking downtown Atlanta.
Leo and his mother arrived just after four.
Dr.
Carter greeted them in a conference room.
Beside her sat a district attorney’s investigator named Samuel Price.
A thick folder rested on the table.
“Leo,” Carter began, “your recordings have been extremely helpful.”
“Has Troy been expelled?”
“His disciplinary hearing is scheduled.
We have also referred the assault allegations to the appropriate authorities.”
“And Principal Harris?”
“He remains on leave.”
Carter exchanged a glance with Price.
“However, our investigation uncovered something more serious.”
Leo’s mother stiffened.
“What kind of something?”
Price opened the folder.
“For several years, the Westbridge Athletic Excellence Fund has received substantial private donations.”
“Troy’s father,” Leo said.
“Among others.”
Price slid a document across the table.
It showed a series of financial transfers.
“Some donations were legitimate.
Others appear to have been used to conceal improper payments to school officials.”
Leo studied the numbers.
“Bribes?”
“That’s one possibility under investigation.”
Carter leaned forward.
“Students who complained about athletes were sometimes pressured into withdrawing statements.
Disciplinary records were altered.
Security footage was deleted.”
Maya’s brother.
The transferred student.
The boy who stopped attending school.
Leo felt his hands tighten beneath the table.
“Why?”
Price’s expression was grim.
“To protect the school’s athletic reputation and preserve financial relationships.”
Leo’s mother shook her head.
“That’s horrible.”
“There’s more,” Price said.
He removed a photograph.
It showed Principal Harris standing beside Troy’s father at a fundraising event.
Leo recognized the picture.
But this one had been cropped differently.
A third man stood beside them.
He wore a dark suit and a silver wristwatch.
Leo’s breath caught.
He knew that face.
He had seen it in his father’s engineering notebooks.
“Who is that?” he asked.
Price watched him carefully.
“His name is Victor Sloane.”
Leo went still.
Sloane had once been Daniel Bennett’s business partner.
The man who had helped fund the early development of the glasses.
The man who had attended his father’s funeral and told Leo that Daniel’s inventions would never be forgotten.
“What does he have to do with Westbridge?”
Leo whispered.
Price closed the folder.
“We were hoping you could help us answer that.”
That evening, Leo went straight to the cardboard box beneath his bed.
Inside were his father’s notebooks, neatly stacked and bound with rubber bands.
He searched through them until he found a black leather journal.
On the final pages, Daniel had written about disagreements with Victor Sloane.
At first, the notes were technical.
Problems with software licensing.
Arguments over patent ownership.
Popular Posts
→- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
Recently Viewed
Stories you read recently will appear here.
