Chapter 1: The Call She Shouldn't Have Answered
“Maybe now you’ll remember your place.””
Madison Carter said it while pieces of my perfect math test fluttered around my shoes like white confetti.
Except nobody was celebrating me.
Her friends, Chloe Bennett and Brianna Wells, were laughing.
And both of them had their phones pointed at my face.
I stared at the torn paper on the pavement.
A bright red *100* was still visible on one piece.
Madison’s score had been 76.
Apparently, that was my crime.
It was 3:17 on a Friday afternoon, and most students had already disappeared toward buses, sports practice, or expensive cars waiting along the curb.
I had been halfway across the parking lot when Madison stepped in front of me.
Chloe and Brianna closed in behind.
Now I understood why.
“You made me look stupid today,” Madison said.
I slowly crouched.
“I answered the questions on my own test.””
Madison’s polished loafer came down on one of the pieces before I could pick it up.
“You corrected Mr. Reynolds.””
“He made a calculation mistake.””
“And everyone laughed.””
“Not at you.””
Her expression hardened.
That was the problem.
For people like Madison, there was no difference.
She had spent three years making sure everyone at Westbridge Academy understood the social order.
Her father owned hotels.
Chloe’s mother ran a luxury real-estate company.
Brianna’s family name was on the new athletic center.
Then there was me.
Nia Brooks.
The scholarship girl who rode the city bus.
I wore clean clothes, but never designer labels. I packed my own lunch. I used the same backpack until the zipper practically begged for retirement.
Everyone had reached the same conclusion.
Poor.
I had never corrected them.
My father had taught me not to.
“If they respect your money before they respect your character,” he once told me, “then you learned something valuable about them for free.””
Madison leaned closer.
“You really think that scholarship makes you special?””
“No.””
“Then why do you act like you’re better than us?””
“I don't.””
Chloe laughed behind me.
“She absolutely does.””
I reached for another piece of my test.
Madison kicked it away.
Something inside me burned, but I refused to give her the reaction she wanted.
That annoyed her even more.
She grabbed my backpack.
“Give it back.””
“What are you hiding in here?””
“Madison.””
She unzipped it.
Then turned it upside down.
Everything hit the pavement.
My chemistry textbook.
Calculator.
Wallet.
Pens.
Bus pass.
Notebook.
Phone.
Even the little silver keychain my mother had given me before she died.
It bounced once and slid beneath Madison’s shoe.
My stomach tightened.
“Don't step on that.””
For the first time, my voice changed.
Madison noticed.
She glanced down.
“Oh. This?””
She deliberately moved her shoe over it.
I lunged forward.
Brianna blocked me.
“Relax, scholarship girl.””
“Move.””
Then my phone rang.
All four of us froze.
Madison saw it first.
She snatched it from the pavement.
I knew exactly who was calling because Dad called every Friday afternoon.
Madison looked at the screen.
“Dad.””
Her mouth curved into a smile.
“Give me my phone.””
“Should we tell Daddy his little genius is crying?””
“I’m not crying.””
Chloe kept recording.
“Answer it,” she whispered.
Madison did.
She put the call on speaker.
“Hello?””
Silence.
Then my father’s voice came through.
“Who is this?””
Madison rolled her eyes.
“Your daughter needs to learn some manners.””
The parking lot suddenly felt very quiet.
“What did you say?””
“She thinks she can embarrass people because she got some charity scholarship.””
“Madison, hang up.””
She ignored me.
“She needs to remember who actually belongs at this school.””
There was another silence.
Longer this time.
My father’s voice changed.
Not louder.
Quieter.
“Put my daughter on the phone.””
Something in his tone wiped the amusement from Madison’s face.
She held the phone toward me.
I took it.
“Dad.””
“Nia?””
“I’m okay.””
“Are you hurt?””
“No.””
“Are you alone?””
I looked at the three girls surrounding me.
“No.””
He paused.
Then he asked the strangest question.
“Which school entrance are you standing near?””
“The east parking lot. Near the science wing.””
“Stay there.””
“Dad, seriously, it’s fine.””
“I know.””
Click.
He hung up.
Madison stared at me.
“That was dramatic.””
I shoved my books back into my backpack.
“You shouldn’t have answered.””
“Oh, please.””
Chloe lowered her phone slightly.
“Why?””
I looked at Madison.
“Because my father doesn't like strangers touching my things.””
Madison laughed.
Then a deep engine sound rolled across the parking lot.
We all turned.
Three identical black SUVs came through the east gate.
Slowly.
One behind another.
Students near the athletic field stopped walking.
The first SUV turned toward us.
Then the second.
Then the third.
Madison stopped smiling.
“What the hell?””
The school doors burst open.
Principal Whitaker hurried outside so fast he nearly missed the bottom step.
He wasn't walking.
He was running.
The first SUV stopped twenty feet away.
A man in a dark suit stepped out from the passenger side.
Then another.
Principal Whitaker reached the rear door himself.
His face had gone pale.
Madison looked at me.
“Nia…”
The rear door opened.
My father stepped onto the pavement.
Dark charcoal suit.
No tie.
Calm expression.
The same man who had made pancakes for me that morning.
Principal Whitaker immediately extended both hands.
“Mr. Brooks, if we'd known you were coming—”
Dad walked straight past him.
Straight toward me.
Madison stared from him to me.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Who exactly is your father?””
May you like
Before I could answer, Principal Whitaker did.
And the name he used made Madison’s phone slip from her fingers.
