Chapter 3

I froze for a second, then rushed over. "Emma! What the hell are you doing to my car?"

She clearly hadn't expected me to catch her.

Panic flashed across her face, her hand still frozen in midair.

After a brief pause, she stammered, "Well, you parked over the line."

She even kicked the white line on the ground. "See? You're blocking a public walkway. You took up too much space."

I looked her straight in the eye. "Oh! Didn't you tell me this was a reserved parking spot for the school?

"You said you'd only let me park here earlier as a favor."

I stared her down. "How can there be a reserved parking spot on a public street? The lines are clearly marked. You can't just key someone's car because you feel like it."

Emma stuffed the screwdriver into her purse. "Whatever. There's no talking to you."

She turned and walked toward the school gates.

I caught up with her just as several of our former classmates came over.

They looked uncomfortable when they saw me.

"Well, look who's here. Clara."

"What are you two fighting about?"

Emma didn't even turn around. "What do you think? She's throwing a fit because we dirtied her car."

Julian's face immediately hardened.

Before I could explain, he stormed over and pointed a finger in my face. "Who do you think you are? Just because you're driving your sugar daddy's hand-me-down doesn't mean you're better than us. We only cut you some slack because we used to be classmates, and now you're turning on us over one little scratch?"

I forced myself to stay calm. "Emma keyed my car. My dashcam caught the whole thing. If you're going to defend her, fine. Let's call the police and see what they have to say."

Emma snorted, "This is public property. We don't need your permission. You should be thankful all I did was scratch your car."

Grace jumped in. "Oh, come on. It's just a scratch. We'll give you 200 dollars to fix it. Problem solved."

That was the last straw. "This isn't about 200 dollars."

Emma waved me off impatiently. "Stop making such a big deal out of nothing. The car's already scratched. What else do you want from me?"

I let out a cold laugh. "Emma, who lent you the money for tuition when you couldn't afford it senior year?"

She froze.

Before she could answer, I turned to Julian. "Julian, when you needed money upfront for that construction contract last year, who lent it to you?"

One by one, they looked away.

"And what about all the money I've given you over the years? Thousands, sometimes tens of thousands. Did you all forget about that? Was I just throwing my money away on you?"

Julian opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Emma quickly recovered and snapped, "Slut, get the hell out of here! We have classes to teach. Keep causing trouble, and whatever happens next is on you!"

They wanted me gone. So I refused to leave.

"I'm not going anywhere. You want to call the police? Go ahead. Let's let them sort this out."

I glanced at my dashcam.

The red recording light was still blinking.

"And since we're talking about the damage, here's something you should know. This car cost ten million dollars before any custom work was done. Repairs will cost at least five hundred thousand. The paint is custom, so it can't just be fixed at some local body shop. The car has to go back to the factory. And you think 200 dollars will cover it? Do you even hear yourself?"

Emma snapped, "Will you just shut up already?!"

She lunged at me and shoved me hard. "This is my turf! I can do whatever I want! Who are you to tell me what to do? Go back to whoring yourself and get the hell out of my face!"

I wasn't ready for the shove.

My foot caught on the curb, and I stumbled backward.

Before I could catch myself, my forehead slammed into the fire hydrant behind me.

Pain exploded through my head.

Blood ran down past my eye and covered half my face.