Chapter 4

The next morning, I went to the headmaster's office to sign the official withdrawal forms.

Headmaster Thompson looked at me over his glasses. "Liam, I urge you to reconsider. A single bad day, a single failed exam, doesn't define your future. You have more potential than any student I've seen in a decade."

"My decision is final, sir," I said, signing my name on the line.

I handed him the pen and walked out.

A small crowd was waiting in the hallway. Ethan and Jessica stood at the center of it. It was a planned ambush.

Ethan stepped forward, his expression full of sincerity for his TikTok audience, who were no doubt watching on a friend's phone.

"Liam, bro, don't do this," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You're a genius. We all know it. If you're struggling, let us help you. Let me help you."

He put his hand on my shoulder. It was a public performance of magnanimity. He was the gracious winner, trying to save the fallen loser. The comments online would praise his kindness.

I looked at his hand on my shoulder, then into his eyes.

"I don't need your help," I said calmly.

I brushed his hand off and walked through the silent crowd. I didn't go to my old pickup truck.

Instead, I walked to the far end of the student parking lot, to a spot no one ever used. I got into a clean, black, late-model sedan that no one had ever seen me drive before.

I drove away from the manicured lawns of the prep school, away from the town's quaint center. I drove toward the industrial waterfront.

I pulled up to a large, modern building with a sign that read "Oceanic Holdings - East Coast Operations."

I walked past the security desk, took the private elevator to the top floor, and entered the corner office.

My father was at his desk, looking over shipping manifests. My mother was on the sofa, reading.

They looked up as I entered.

"Dad. Mom," I said, my voice breaking for the first time. "We need to talk. I remember everything."