Chapter 4

The day the exam scores were posted online was gray and overcast, a perfect mirror of the mood in our house. My parents were quiet, their disappointment a heavy blanket in the small living room. They didn' t understand. I was their brilliant daughter, their one hope, and I had thrown it all away. I hadn' t offered an explanation, and they had stopped asking.

My phone buzzed with a text from Sarah.

'Scores are up. I' m too scared to look. You go first!'

I navigated to the school district' s portal, my hands strangely steady. There was no suspense for me, only a grim sense of finality. I typed in my student ID and password. The page loaded.

Ava Miller

College Entrance Examination Score: 0

A perfect zero. The lowest possible score. It was a beautiful, catastrophic failure.

Sarah called a second later, her voice frantic. "Ava! What happened? Is the system bugged? It says you got a zero! That' s impossible!"

"It' s not a bug, Sarah," I said calmly.

"What? What are you talking about? Your Harvard interview is next week! Did you... did you do this on purpose?"

Before I could answer, a commotion erupted outside. Shouts and gasps from the other students who lived on our block. I walked to the window and looked out. A small crowd had gathered around the public notice board where the top scores were traditionally pinned.

Then I heard his name.

"No way! Noah Vance got a zero too?" someone yelled.

"What?" another voice cried out. "But he was bragging he got a perfect score! Look! His name is right there, next to Ava' s. Same score. Zero."

A slow, triumphant smile spread across my face. It worked. He had followed me all the way down. He was so committed to his 'mind-reading' lie that he had to match my failure just as he had planned to match my success.

The front door slammed open.

It was Noah. He looked unhinged. His hair was a mess, his eyes were wild with fury, and his two cronies were right behind him, looking nervous.

"You!" he roared, storming into my living room. My dad stood up, but Noah shoved him aside. "You ruined me!"

He lunged for me, his hands outstretched like claws. I didn't even have time to scream. He grabbed the front of my shirt, slamming me back against the wall. The impact knocked the wind out of me, and my head hit the drywall with a dull thud.

"Do you have any idea what you' ve done?" he screamed, his face inches from mine, spit flying from his mouth. "My father is going to kill me! All my applications... worthless!"

"Get your hands off my daughter!" my father yelled, grabbing Noah' s shoulder.

Noah' s friend pushed my dad back hard. "Stay out of this, old man."

Through the haze of pain, I looked into Noah' s raging eyes and felt a surge of pure, unadulterated pleasure. This was better than any acceptance letter. Seeing him broken, seeing his perfect, controlled world crumble into dust because of me-it was a victory more satisfying than I could have ever imagined.

"The bet' s off, Noah," I gasped, a real smile on my face now. "You didn' t get into an Ivy League school. So you owe me. You owe my brother."

He just stared at me for a second, his rage momentarily replaced by disbelief. Then he laughed. A horrifying, empty laugh.

"You think you' ve won?" he sneered, his grip tightening. "You pathetic little charity case. You think I was ever going to give you that money? You threw away your entire future for nothing! You' re just as much of a failure as I am now, but the difference is, my daddy can buy my way into any school he wants. What do you have, Ava? Nothing. You have nothing!"

He shoved me hard against the wall again, and my vision swam.

"You' ll still be my assistant," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "I' ll make your life a living hell. You and your sick little brother."

Suddenly, my phone, which had fallen to the floor in the scuffle, lit up with a notification. It was an email. The subject line was simple, but it cut through the noise and the violence like a bolt of lightning.

Subject: Stark International Grant – Finalist Notification

It was from an organization I had applied to months ago, a long shot. A prestigious grant awarded to one high school student in the country for innovative scientific research. It wasn't just a scholarship; it was a comprehensive support package, including mentorship from leading scientists and a substantial financial award.

I had completely forgotten about it.

In the middle of the chaos, with Noah' s hands still on me and my world in flames, a tiny, impossible seed of hope began to sprout.