Chapter 5
Nobody understood what Carter meant.
At least, I didn’t.
Dr. Shaw asked first.
“What list?”
Carter’s father snapped, “He is confused.”
“I’m not!”
The answer came too quickly.
Too emotionally.
Daniel grabbed his son again.
“Carter.”
“Stop!”
Carter jerked away.
“I’m sick of this.”
My anger faltered.
Something in his voice had changed.
He was still the boy who humiliated me.
Nothing could erase that.
But now he sounded terrified of his own father.
Carter continued.
“You always say I’m supposed to protect the family.”
Daniel hissed, “Be quiet.”
“Why?”
“Because you have no idea what you’re saying.”
“Yes, I do.”
Carter’s breathing became ragged.
“You showed me the box.”
Daniel moved.
My father’s security officer moved too.
“Sir, stay where you are.”
Daniel swore.
Dr. Shaw said, “Carter, what box?”
Carter sniffed.
“My grandfather’s stuff.”
“What stuff?”
“Old Westbridge things.”
My father asked, “Where?”
“At our house.”
Daniel said, “This is absurd.”
Carter ignored him.
“There were yearbooks. Letters. School newspapers. A notebook.”
My heart pounded.
“What was in the notebook?”
He hesitated.
Then I heard him sit.
Maybe the adrenaline had finally disappeared.
When he spoke again, his voice sounded exhausted.
“Names.”
Dr. Shaw asked, “Whose names?”
“Students my grandfather hated.”
My father went still.
“Was Isabella Grant’s name there?”
Carter did not answer.
My father repeated it.
“Was my wife’s name in that notebook?”
“Yes.”
I felt like I’d been punched.
“What did it say?”
Carter sniffed.
“I don’t remember.”
“Carter.”
“I swear.”
His father shouted, “That is enough.”
Carter screamed back.
“No, it’s not!”
The sound startled everyone.
He continued.
“You told me Grandpa was a legend here.”
Daniel went silent.
“You said people respected him.”
“They did.”
“You said those names were people who tried to ruin him.”
Daniel’s voice lowered.
“You misunderstood.”
Carter laughed bitterly.
“I was twelve.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“I asked you why Grandpa wrote that Isabella Grant needed to be taught a lesson.”
My father made a sound I had never heard before.
Not anger.
Pain.
Raw and immediate.
I reached toward him.
This time, he took my hand.
Carter continued.
“You told me some people come into places like Westbridge and forget their place.”
Daniel said, “You are twisting my words.”
“Am I?”
Carter’s voice cracked.
“Because you said the same thing about Emma.”
My father’s fingers tightened around mine.
Daniel replied, “I never knew Emma was Isabella’s daughter.”
Carter laughed.
“No. But you knew she was on scholarship.”
I froze.
I wasn’t on scholarship.
My father had paid my tuition through a trust under my mother’s surname.
But maybe that was what the school told people.
Carter continued.
“You said the academy had started letting in people who didn’t understand tradition.”
Dr. Shaw said quietly, “Daniel.”
He snapped, “Don’t.”
She continued.
“You’re describing a culture of targeting students based on status.”
“I’m describing private conversations with my son.”
My father’s voice became cold.
“And your son turned those private conversations into public cruelty.”
Daniel said nothing.
I pulled my hand from my father’s.
“Carter.”
He sniffed.
“What?”
“Why me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
He was silent.
“Why did you choose me?”
He started crying harder.
I didn’t feel sorry for him.
Not yet.
Maybe I never would.
But I needed the truth.
Finally he said, “Because you didn’t act scared.”
My breath caught.
“What?”
“The first day.”
I remembered.
He had stepped in front of me near my locker.
Asked if I needed somebody to walk me to class.
I said no.
Then he moved my backpack.
I found it myself.
He laughed.
I ignored him.
Carter continued.
“You didn’t ask me who I was.”
“Why would I?”
“Everyone knows who I am here.”
“I couldn’t care less.”
“I know.”
His answer sounded almost ashamed.
“That made me angry.”
I shook my head.
“So you decided to torture me?”
“It didn’t start like that.”
“How did it start?”
“A joke.”
“Of course.”
“I’m not saying it was okay.”
“Good.”
He breathed shakily.
“Then Madison found your mother’s surname on some document.”
My father asked sharply, “What document?”
“The student directory.”
Dr. Shaw muttered, “That directory is restricted.”
Carter continued.
“Her mom works with the parent committee. Madison used her password.”
Madison cried, “Carter!”
“Stop pretending!”
He shouted.
“You posted it first.”
Madison sobbed.
“I didn’t know who she was.”
“Neither did I.”
My voice shook.
“What did you find?”
Carter answered.
“Emma Grant.”
I frowned.
That was the name I used at school.
My middle name was Isabella, after my mother.
Legally, I was Emma Isabella Moretti.
But after my mother died, my father created a family trust under Grant for privacy.
“We thought Grant was your real last name.”
“It is my mother’s.”
“I know that now.”
“What happened next?”
Carter hesitated.
“Madison searched old yearbooks.”
My skin prickled.
“She found Isabella.”
“Yes.”
My father asked, “And?”
“There was a picture.”
“What picture?”
“Your mom standing next to my grandfather at some student leadership dinner.”
My stomach turned.
My father’s voice became hard.
“What year?”
“Nineteen ninety-eight.”
Dr. Shaw whispered, “The Founders Dinner.”
Carter said, “My dad has the same picture at home.”
Daniel swore.
Then Carter said something unexpected.
“My grandfather wrote something on the back.”
I held my breath.
“What?”
He paused.
“Problem solved.”
Nobody spoke.
My father asked, “When was the photograph printed?”
“I don’t know.”
“Before or after Isabella was hospitalized?”
“I don’t know!”
Dr. Shaw said, “The Founders Dinner took place four days before the staircase incident.”
My father released my hand.
I could feel him pacing.
“How did we never know about that photograph?”
Dr. Shaw answered quietly.
“I didn’t know it existed.”
Daniel suddenly said, “Because it means nothing.”
My father stopped.
“You seem very interested in convincing us of that.”
“My dead father wrote two words on the back of a photo.”
“About my injured wife.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know he threatened her.”
“You know what she claimed.”
The room turned ice cold.
My father’s voice became barely audible.
“Choose your next words very carefully.”
Daniel laughed.
“See? This is exactly what your family does.”
“My family?”
“You walk into rooms with money and security and everyone bends.”
My father answered, “My wife had neither when your father terrorized her.”
Daniel said nothing.
I stepped between their voices.
“Stop.”
They did.
“Both of you.”
My pulse hammered.
“This is about my mother.”
No one spoke.
“And about what happened to students after her.”
I turned toward Carter.
“The notebook.”
“Yes?”
“Do you still have it?”
He hesitated.
“My dad does.”
Daniel immediately said, “No.”
Carter answered, “It’s in Grandpa’s study.”
“Carter.”
“Locked cabinet behind the desk.”
Daniel’s voice became furious.
“You have no right to tell strangers about private family property.”
Carter snapped, “You told me to copy it.”
The room exploded again.
My father said, “What?”
Carter seemed to realize what he had revealed.
Daniel moved toward him.
Security blocked the path.
Dr. Shaw demanded, “Copy what?”
Carter was breathing hard.
“The list.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
His father shouted, “He is lying.”
Carter screamed, “You made me!”
My skin went cold.
“When?”
“Last summer.”
My cane trembled against the tile.
“What was on the new list?”
He didn’t answer.
I stepped closer.
“Carter.”
His voice became a whisper.
“Students.”
“At Westbridge?”
“Yes.”
“Students you were supposed to target?”
“I didn’t know what it was for.”
“But you used it.”
Silence.
“Was my name there?”
“No.”
I exhaled.
Then he added, “Not at first.”
My stomach dropped.
“What does that mean?”
Carter swallowed.
“When Madison found out your mother was Isabella Grant…”
He stopped.
“Finish.”
“We added you.”
My father muttered something vicious under his breath.
I forced myself to keep my voice steady.
“Who is we?”
“Me.”
Carter sniffed.
“Madison.”
Another breath.
“And Principal Hayes’s son.”
The entire cafeteria froze.
I turned toward the principal.
“Your son?”
Hayes said nothing.
Dr. Shaw whispered, “Richard.”
He snapped, “My son graduated two years ago.”
Carter said, “He still runs Legacy.”
I heard Dr. Shaw step backward.
“What is his name?”
Everyone knew the answer before Carter said it.
“Brandon Hayes.”
The principal shouted, “My son has nothing to do with this school anymore.”
Sophie responded from behind me.
“That’s a lie.”
Hayes turned toward her.
“What did you say?”
“Brandon was at the alumni party last month.”
“That proves nothing.”
“He met with Carter.”
Hayes said, “Students talk to alumni all the time.”
Carter suddenly laughed.
“No, Dad’s right.”
Daniel barked, “Do not call me that like we are on the same side.”
Carter ignored him.
“He met me.”
My father asked, “Why?”
Carter answered.
“He gave me the envelope.”
My heartbeat stopped.
“What envelope?”
“The one with Emma’s schedule.”
I could not breathe.
My father exploded.
“You had my daughter’s schedule?”
Carter started crying again.
“I didn’t know where it came from!”
“But you used it.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“To know where she would be.”
The cafeteria disappeared around me.
Every hallway encounter.
Every joke.
Every time Carter “accidentally” appeared outside my classroom.
It hadn’t been random.
“What else was in the envelope?”
Carter whispered.
“A picture.”
My voice shook.
“Of me?”
“No.”
He paused.
“Of your mother.”
I swallowed.
“What picture?”
“The staircase.”
My father stopped breathing.
May you like
Carter continued.
“She was lying at the bottom.”
