Chapter 5 - THE FLASH DRIVE
The photograph looked real.
That was the first problem.
The second problem was the timestamp.
It showed me outside the faculty records room on Tuesday at 4:18 p.m.
I had been there.
I stayed late for chemistry tutoring every Tuesday, and the tutoring room was across the hall.
But I had never held that flash drive.
Helen Lang asked me the same question three different ways.
“Did you enter the records room?”
“No.”
“Did anyone give you a drive?”
“No.”
“Have you ever accessed your father’s credentials?”
“No.”
Peter Mercer watched from the other side of the table.
“You expect us to believe that?”
Helen turned to him.
“I expect you not to interfere with my interview.”
For the first time, Peter looked annoyed.
Ben Ortiz enlarged the photo on his laptop.
“Where did this come from?”
Peter’s attorney answered.
“Anonymous student submission.”
Ben zoomed in again.
Something about the image bothered me.
Then I saw it.
“My bracelet.”
Everyone looked at me.
I pointed at the photo.
“The girl in that picture is wearing a silver bracelet.”
“So?” Peter said.
“I don’t wear bracelets.”
He scoffed.
“That proves nothing.”
I pulled up my sleeves.
A pale scar ran around my left wrist from surgery when I was nine. Jewelry rubbing against it made the skin swell, so I had stopped wearing bracelets years ago.
Dad knew that.
Ben stared harder at the image.
Then he leaned back.
“This was altered.”
Peter’s attorney objected immediately.
“You cannot make that determination by looking at a screen.”
“No,” Ben said. “But I can see the reflection in the trophy case.”
We all turned toward the enlarged photo.
The girl’s face had been replaced with mine.
The reflection still showed someone else.
Blonde hair.
A pink phone case.
Chloe Vance.
Nobody spoke.
Helen closed the laptop.
“Mr. Mercer, where did you really get this?”
Peter stood.
“This meeting is over.”
“No,” Dad said quietly. “It isn’t.”
Peter leaned over the table.
“You’re forgetting how this school survives, Daniel.”
Dad’s face hardened.
“I know exactly how it survives.”
Peter smiled.
“Do you? Because the foundation board meets Friday. Maybe you should ask how many people want a principal who hid his own daughter inside the student body.”
He walked out.
Helen waited until the door closed.
Then she looked at Ben.
“Recover everything.”
Ben nodded.
His phone buzzed before he could leave.
He read the message and went pale.
“What?” Dad asked.
Ben turned the screen around.
The cloud backup had finished restoring one more folder.
The folder was labeled SCHOLARSHIP DISCIPLINE.
May you like
Inside were twenty-three student names.
Mine was number twenty-four.
