Chapter 3
I showed Ryan the photograph after class.
His face changed immediately.
“That's not from a student.”
“How can you tell?”
“Look at the angle.”
We stood near the library doors while students passed us.
Ryan enlarged the image.
“It was taken outside the front gate. Students aren't allowed to hang around there once classes start.”
I stared at my own picture.
Gray sweatshirt.
Backpack.
Head slightly down.
Completely unaware.
A chill crawled over my arms.
“Maybe someone's parent took it.”
“Maybe.”
Ryan didn't sound convinced.
I called Dad.
He answered on the first ring.
“Emily?”
“I got a message.”
“What kind?”
I sent him screenshots.
He went silent.
That silence again.
“Where are you?”
“Outside the library.”
“Stay there.”
“Dad—”
“Emily.”
His voice had changed.
“Do not leave the building.”
My heartbeat accelerated.
“Do you recognize the number?”
“No.”
“I'm sending someone to you.”
“I don't need security following me around school.”
“This isn't about your pride anymore.”
That stung.
But I knew he was right.
“What is it about?”
“Someone photographed my daughter before school and then anonymously sent her the picture after she was publicly humiliated.”
He paused.
“That is enough for me.”
Twenty minutes later, a woman in a navy pantsuit entered the library.
She was maybe thirty-five, with dark hair tied back and an expression that made people move out of her path.
“Emily Carter?”
“Yes.”
“I'm Dana Ruiz. I handle security for Carter Development.”
I'd seen Dana at Dad's office.
I just hadn't known her job.
She showed me identification anyway.
“I need your phone.”
I hesitated.
“My father sent you?”
“Yes.”
“I'd rather keep my phone.”
Her mouth almost curved.
“You are definitely Jonathan's daughter.”
I handed it over.
She photographed the messages with another device and wrote down the number.
“Don't delete anything.”
“I won't.”
“Did anyone know you planned to dress simply at school?”
“My dad. Our housekeeper. Maybe our driver.”
“Friends?”
“I didn't really tell anyone.”
“What about Ryan?”
“No.”
Ryan raised both hands.
“I only knew who she was because my dad mentioned Jonathan Carter had a daughter transferring here.”
Dana looked at him.
“Your full name?”
“Ryan Mitchell.”
“Father?”
“Daniel Mitchell.”
Recognition flickered across her face.
“Carter Development's outside counsel?”
“That's him.”
She nodded.
Then she asked me something strange.
“Did Madison ever call you by your last name before today?”
I thought about it.
“No.”
“Did any student?”
“My teachers did during attendance.”
“So people could know you were Emily Carter.”
“Yes.”
“But Carter isn't an unusual last name.”
“No.”
Dana looked at the photograph again.
“Did you post anything about transferring here?”
“No.”
“Your father?”
“He doesn't post about me.”
She handed the phone back.
“This could be nothing more than a cruel student prank.”
“But you don't think it is.”
“I don't guess.”
That sounded exactly like something Dad would pay someone to say.
The school day ended at three.
I walked outside with Dana ten feet behind me.
Ryan came too.
At the curb, a black SUV waited.
I groaned.
“Seriously?”
Dana opened the door.
“Your father requested subtle transportation.”
“This is subtle?”
Ryan glanced at the tinted windows.
“For your family? Probably.”
I laughed despite myself.
Then I saw Madison.
She was standing near the front steps with her mother.
Mrs. Blake wore cream-colored designer clothes and enormous sunglasses.
Madison's face was swollen from crying.
Her mother spotted me.
She marched across the sidewalk.
“Emily!”
Dana immediately stepped between us.
Mrs. Blake stopped.
“Oh, please. I'm not going to attack a child.”
“Then speak from there,” Dana said.
Mrs. Blake looked offended.
“This is ridiculous.”
I stepped slightly to the side.
“What do you want?”
She lowered her sunglasses.
Her eyes were furious.
“You've made your point.”
I blinked.
“My point?”
“Madison has been suspended for five days.”
“Because she dumped dirty water on me.”
“She made a mistake.”
Madison stood behind her mother.
She wouldn't look at me.
Mrs. Blake continued.
“Teenage girls tease each other. Your father doesn't need to threaten the school.”
I stared at her.
“My father threatened the school?”
“Don't pretend you don't know.”
“I don't.”
She folded her arms.
“Jonathan Carter informed the board that if this school tolerates class-based harassment, he'll reconsider his involvement with their scholarship expansion.”
That sounded possible.
Dad hated bullies.
Especially rich ones.
“He shouldn't need to say that,” I replied. “The school should care even if my father had zero dollars.”
Mrs. Blake's lips tightened.
“Madison apologized.”
I looked at Madison.
“When?”
Her mother turned.
“Madison.”
Madison finally looked at me.
“Sorry.”
One word.
Flat.
Forced.
Her mother looked satisfied.
“There. Now perhaps your father can stop trying to destroy us.”
My stomach twisted.
“What did he do to you?”
Mrs. Blake's expression changed.
“Ask him.”
She grabbed Madison's arm and walked away.
I climbed into the SUV.
Ryan stood outside.
“You okay?”
“I don't know.”
“Text me.”
I nodded.
At home, Dad was waiting in his study.
I didn't even change first.
“What happened with Richard Blake?”
Dad looked up from his desk.
“He canceled tomorrow's meeting.”
“Why?”
“Because apparently his wife told him I planned to humiliate him.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Did you call the school board?”
“Yes.”
I exhaled.
“Dad.”
“I didn't ask them to expel Madison.”
“What did you say?”
“The truth.”
He closed his laptop.
“I told them a student was attacked because she was perceived as poor. I told them I wanted to know what policies existed for students who actually came from low-income families.”
I sat across from him.
“And?”
“They had very few answers.”
Dad's expression hardened.
“So I asked whether their diversity brochures were marketing materials or promises.”
I couldn't exactly argue with that.
“Mrs. Blake says you're trying to destroy them.”
“I'm not.”
“Then why would Richard cancel?”
Dad leaned back.
“That concerns me.”
“Why?”
“Because Richard Blake isn't easily embarrassed. I've negotiated with him before.”
Dad stood and walked toward the windows.
“He'd normally use this situation to strengthen his position. Apologize, invite us to dinner, make a generous donation to some anti-bullying program.”
“That sounds cynical.”
“It is cynical.”
He looked at me.
“But instead he canceled a forty-million-dollar negotiation without explanation.”
Forty million.
I stared.
“Maybe he's angry.”
“Maybe.”
“You don't believe that.”
“No.”
Dana entered the study without knocking.
Dad didn't seem surprised.
“What did you find?” he asked.
She placed a folder on his desk.
“The number that messaged Emily is prepaid.”
“Of course.”
“Activated three days ago.”
My chest tightened.
Three days.
Before the cafeteria incident.
Dad's face became stone.
Dana continued.
“There's more.”
She opened the folder.
“We reviewed public photographs of Emily's first day.”
“What public photographs?” I asked.
“A student lifestyle account posted pictures outside the school.”
She slid one toward us.
I was visible in the background.
Madison was near the doors.
So was Chloe.
And fifty feet behind them, near a parked sedan, stood a man in sunglasses.
Dana placed the anonymous photograph beside it.
“The anonymous picture appears to have been taken from approximately where this man was standing.”
Dad stared at him.
“Identify him.”
“We're working on it.”
I leaned closer.
Something about him seemed familiar.
Not his face.
His jacket.
Dark green.
A small gold emblem near the chest.
I'd seen that emblem recently.
Then I remembered.
“Wait.”
Both adults looked at me.
“The Blake dealership.”
Dad's eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“I saw an advertisement on Madison's social media because she kept showing everyone. Her dad's luxury dealership employees wear green jackets at promotional events.”
Dana immediately pulled out her phone.
I searched Madison's profile.
She had blocked me.
Ryan hadn't.
I called him.
“Can you look at Madison's page?”
“Already weird, Emily.”
“Please.”
A moment later he said, “Okay.”
“Find a post from one of her dad's dealerships.”
“Got it.”
“Any employees wearing green jackets?”
Silence.
Then Ryan's voice changed.
“Yeah.”
“Can you screenshot it?”
“Sending.”
The image arrived.
Three dealership employees stood beside a sports car.
All wore green jackets with gold emblems.
But the man in the middle made my breath catch.
Same height.
Same jaw.
Same sunglasses.
Same man from outside my school.
Dana took my phone.
Dad stared at the photograph.
Ryan's screenshot included a caption.
Congratulations to our security director, Marcus Vale, on five years with Blake Automotive Group.
Nobody spoke.
Finally I whispered, “Why was Madison's father's security director watching me before she bullied me?”
Dad's phone rang.
He looked at the caller ID.
Richard Blake.
Dad answered.
“Richard.”
I couldn't hear the other side.
Dad's expression changed.
“What do you mean, you didn't send him?”
Another pause.
Then Dad slowly looked at me.
“Where is Madison now?”
His face drained of color.
He put the call on speaker.
Richard Blake's voice filled the study.
“She disappeared twenty minutes ago.”
I felt the room tilt.
“She left her phone in her bedroom,” Richard said. “And before she disappeared, she wrote one thing on her mirror.”
“What?” Dad asked.
May you like
Richard's voice cracked.
“Emily knows.”
