Chapter 5: The Missing Pages
I spent that night sitting beside Jordan’s bed.
The apartment was quiet except for the sound of rain tapping against the window.
Usually, storms bothered him.
When he was younger, he would crawl into my room and ask if he could sleep beside me until the thunder stopped.
That night, he didn’t ask.
He just stared at the ceiling.
My son was eleven years old.
And he was already learning that some adults could hurt people without ever raising their voice.
“Mom?””
I looked up.
“Yeah?””
“Did I do something to make them angry?””
My heart broke.
“No.””
“But why would they pick me?””
I sat beside him.
“Because sometimes people see something good in someone else and instead of celebrating it, they try to take it away.””
Jordan was quiet.
Then he whispered:
“That doesn’t make sense.””
I smiled sadly.
“You’re right.””
The next morning, Claire came to our apartment with her laptop.
She placed it on the kitchen table.
“I spent all night checking the records.””
I poured coffee for myself.
“What did you find?””
She opened the student database.
“Jordan’s academic file was changed multiple times.””
I leaned closer.
“Changed how?””
“Grades were adjusted.””
My stomach dropped.
“What?””
Claire pointed at the screen.
“His science project score was lowered from 98 to 82.””
Jordan stood behind us.
“But I got an A.””
“Exactly,” Claire said.
She clicked another file.
“Your original score was changed after the teacher submitted it.””
Jordan looked confused.
“Why?””
Claire hesitated.
“Because someone wanted your academic profile to look weaker.””
I looked at her.
“Can you prove who changed it?””
Claire nodded.
“That’s the problem.””
She opened another screen.
“The changes were made using administrator access.””
My eyes moved toward Jordan.
He understood immediately.
“Principal Hayes.””
Nobody said anything.
Because we all knew.
Later that afternoon, Officer Bennett called us to the district office.
The building was different from the school.
No children.
No colorful artwork on the walls.
Just gray hallways and closed doors.
Inside the conference room, a district investigator named Laura Mitchell waited.
She shook my hand.
“Mrs. Carter, I want you to know we are taking this seriously.””
I nodded.
“I need more than an investigation.””
She looked at me.
“I understand.””
“No.””
I looked directly at her.
“You don’t understand.””
My voice cracked.
“My son thought he deserved to be punished.””
The room went quiet.
Investigator Mitchell looked down.
Then she nodded.
“You’re right. We need to understand what happened.””
She opened a folder.
“We found several irregularities.””
Jordan sat beside me.
“Like what?””
She looked at him.
“Like scholarship documents being altered.””
His face changed.
“Because of me?””
“No.””
Her answer was immediate.
“Because of people who made wrong choices.””
Then she placed a printed email on the table.
“This was recovered from the school server.””
I picked it up.
The sender was Principal Hayes.
The recipient was Mrs. Whitmore.
The subject line read:
“Jordan Carter Situation.””
My hands trembled as I opened it.
The email was short.
But one sentence made my blood run cold.
“Once his scholarship is revoked, the committee will reconsider my son’s application.””
Jordan read the words.
His expression changed.
“They wanted it for him.””
Nobody answered.
Because that was the truth.
Mrs. Whitmore wasn’t just protecting her son.
She was trying to replace Jordan.
Investigator Mitchell continued.
“But there’s something else.””
She placed another document on the table.
“This was found in the scholarship committee archive.””
I looked at the page.
It was a letter.
A recommendation letter.
For Jordan.
Written before everything happened.
At the bottom was a signature.
Mrs. Whitmore’s.
I stared at it.
“She recommended him?””
Claire frowned.
“That doesn’t make sense.””
Investigator Mitchell nodded.
“Exactly.””
She turned the page.
“Because two days later, she submitted a complaint accusing him of cheating.””
A cold feeling moved through me.
“She was helping him before she tried to destroy him.””
Officer Bennett looked serious.
“Which means something changed.””
The investigator nodded.
“We think someone pressured her.””
The room became silent.
Because suddenly the question wasn’t just why Mrs. Whitmore attacked my son.
It was who convinced her to do it.
Then Claire’s phone buzzed.
She looked at the message.
Her face went pale.
“Rachel…”
I stood up.
“What?””
She turned the phone around.
A message from an unknown number.
May you like
Only one sentence.
“Stop digging, or Jordan will lose more than a scholarship.””
