Chapter 3

Drew clearly had not expected me to stay this combative, even now. He faltered for a moment, then pulled a photograph from his bag. "Harper, we've been classmates a long time. I really didn't want to push you this far, but since you're going to keep up this attitude…"

The photo showed Dad and the deputy director of the State Testing Board, the two of them dining alone at an upscale restaurant.

I stared at the photograph, my eyes narrowing.

I had not known about this. Dad had never mentioned it to me.

Drew caught the shift in my expression, and his voice turned heavier with wounded conviction.

"I happened to take this photo back in March. Harper Kincaid's father, sharing a private dinner with Deputy Director George Dawson of the Testing Board. Then, on the college entrance exam, Harper just happens to have the performance of a lifetime and becomes the top scorer in the state."

He paused, his tone dropping lower.

"I don't believe that's a coincidence. There was almost certainly some kind of exchange going on. For all we know, the deputy director could have leaked the test right then and there."

The conference room erupted.

Mr. Dawson was sitting right there. His face went white, and he shot to his feet. "That's absurd! I didn't even—"

The director cut in, his voice stern, "Mr. Dawson, please explain."

Mr. Dawson took a deep breath and forced his voice steady. "That was a veterans' reunion. Her father and I served together over 20 years ago. There were more than 30 people at that dinner, and we were all just catching up.

"On top of that, the dinner was in March. The college entrance exam questions hadn't even been written yet. How could I have possibly leaked anything?"

Everything he said was logical and well-supported, but the live stream chat did not care.

[That's still suspicious! Nobody's going to admit to pulling strings on camera.]

[So what if the test wasn't written yet? There's still plenty of time after March.]

[Did you see Mr. Dawson's face? He looked guilty as hell. Drew's right. Something shady is definitely going on.]

Comment after comment scrolled past, every single one dripping with suspicion.

The officials on the panel exchanged glances. No one spoke.

The director turned to me. "Ms. Kincaid, what do you have to say?"

I was quiet for two seconds, then answered honestly, "I genuinely didn't know about this. But my scores are the result of my own ability."

Drew sighed. "Your dad's reach extends all the way to the State Testing Board, and you're still going to sit there and say it was all you?"

A scoff came from somewhere nearby.

I did not respond, but Drew continued, "Fine. If you won't admit you knew, we'll set the photo aside for now. But I have a witness. And once he's said his piece, I don't think you'll be able to deny anything."

The door opened, and our teacher, Finn Aldridge, walked in. He had not lifted his head once since entering the room. He shuffled to the front with his shoulders hunched, stopping in front of the cameras.

The director addressed him, "Mr. Aldridge, what is your relationship to Harper Kincaid?"

His voice was tight, but he spoke with resolve. "I was her Brevian teacher in high school. I taught Harper for all three years. Her Brevian skills were genuinely poor. In three years, she never once scored a passing grade.

"In class, she slept or played with her phone. The homework she turned in was nonsense. She couldn't even handle basic subject-verb agreement.

"I spoke with her multiple times to try to help, and her scores never improved at all. She even told me point-blank that she would never waste a single extra minute of effort on learning Brevian.

"For a student like that to score a 145 on the college entrance exam in Brevian, I will stake my 25 years of teaching on saying this—it's not possible."