Chapter 3

Brenda looked like she'd been slapped. Her eyes darted between me and Peterson.

"Richard!" she shrieked into her phone again, her voice cracking. "She's... she just... you have to outbid her! You have to!"

Richard's voice was faint, strangled. "Two wings? Twenty-five million?"

"Yes! Do something!" Brenda pleaded.

A long pause. Then, Richard, sounding weak but desperate, "Alright! Alright! I'll... I'll fund a *third* wing! A third Science and Robotics Wing! For Kevin!"

Brenda's face lit up with a desperate hope. She looked at me, a sneer returning. "There! Three wings! Beat that, little rich girl!"

Just then, my phone buzzed. A text message. From Richard.

"Ash, honey, it's Dad. I have a temporary cash flow problem. Could you... could you authorize a loan from your trust? Say, forty million? Just to cover this? I'll pay you back, I swear."

Unbelievable. He wanted to use *my* money to outbid *me* for his mistress's son.

I typed back a single word: "No."

Then I blocked his number.

I looked up at Brenda. "Has the funding for this third wing been confirmed, Mrs. Sullivan? Has the school received notification of the transfer?"

Brenda's smile faltered. She looked at her phone. "Richard? Richard, did you send the money?"

Richard's voice was a mumble. "I'm... I'm having some banking issues. International transfers, you know. Complex. I'll arrange the funds personally later. Don't you worry."

"Banking issues?" I raised an eyebrow. "Or is it a 'no funds available' issue?"

I looked at Brenda, a touch of pity in my voice, though I didn't feel much. "He's playing you, Mrs. Sullivan. He doesn't have that kind of money. He never did."

Brenda's face contorted with rage. "You little liar!"

Kevin, his face red, lunged at me. "You shut up about my dad!"

Brenda was right behind him, claws out. "I'll teach you to disrespect us!"

They were on me before anyone could react, fists flying, nails scratching.

I stumbled back, trying to shield my face.

"Stop them!" someone shouted.

Principal Peterson just stood there, gaping.

Suddenly, the main doors of the auditorium burst open.

Richard Miller strode in, flanked by two large, thuggish-looking men in cheap suits. He looked flustered and angry.

He didn't even glance at me, or perhaps pretended not to recognize me in the scuffle.

"What's all this commotion?" he boomed. He pointed a finger vaguely in my direction, where I was still trying to fend off Kevin and Brenda.

"Remove this disruptive element!" Richard ordered his men. "She's causing a disturbance!"

The two goons started towards me, their expressions menacing.

Just as their hands were about to grab my arms, another voice cut through the chaos.

It was cold, sharp, and utterly commanding.

"Unhand my daughter. Now."

All heads turned.

Eleanor Vance, my mother, stood in the doorway. She wasn't tall, but her presence filled the entire auditorium. Flanked by her own security detail – discreet, professional, and far more intimidating than Richard's hired muscle – she looked like a queen.