Chapter 3

Scott's POV

The two men carried themselves like thugs and looked nothing like police officers at all.

Dad hadn't even been buried yet. There was no way I was going to let them take me without a fight.

"Officers, let me tie my shoes first. Then, I'll go with you," I said.

I crouched down and pretended to fiddle with my laces. The moment they looked away, I took off running.

I had barely made it out the door when they caught me and slammed me to the ground.

"You punk!" one of the men snarled. "You really thought you could fool us? I'll break your leg!"

With that, he kicked my foot with all his strength, and I heard the bone crack.

I screamed. Pain shot through me, and I rolled across the ground.

One of them ran inside my house and came back out. "Paul isn't here. Just take the kid for now."

…

The two men locked me in a small, windowless room with white walls.

They sat across from me and began questioning me. "Scott, do you know why we brought you here?"

Their act was pathetic. I had no intention of playing along, so I said nothing.

"You know things will go easier when you cooperate, right? So start talking," one of the men said. "How did your father falsify your SAT scores?"

"I didn't cheat!" I shouted.

When I refused to admit it, one of the men came over with a police baton and threatened me. "We've looked into everything. How could a student from a school like that even get a score this high?

"You had better come clean, or I'll make you!"

He slammed the baton down on the table in front of me, but it bounced so hard that he lost his grip. The baton came straight back and smacked me in the forehead.

Dad had died so suddenly that I hadn't had time to process it. Now, everything I had been holding inside finally exploded.

I screamed at them, "What's wrong with that school? Are its students destined to fail from the moment they walk through the door?

"Are we not allowed to get good grades, make something of ourselves, or have a bright future?

"You wanted proof that my scores were falsified, right? I'll give it to you. But tell Yolanda not to regret this!"

I opened my backpack and pulled out an acceptance letter from Havorton University, one of the top colleges in the country.

"This is your proof!" I yelled.

Before the men could react, I tore the acceptance letter to pieces and threw the scraps into the air.

"What the hell? That letter he just tore up was from Havorton University!"

"Tell Yolanda my acceptance letter is gone. I'm not going to college either!" I said.

The two men exchanged uneasy looks. After a silent exchange, one of them finally stepped outside to make a call.

…

Third-Person POV

The city's most luxurious hotel was packed with guests. Yolanda was throwing a lavish party to celebrate Winston's academic success.

One of the abductors called her in a panic. "Ms. Quinn, Scott tore up his acceptance letter. He says he's not going to college!"

Yolanda had never cared whether Scott went to college. She asked anxiously, "What about the evidence that he falsified his SAT scores? Did you get anything out of him?"

"No. The kid's too smart. We couldn't get him to talk," the abductor replied.

"Then, make him suffer a little. I don't believe he won't crack," Yolanda said.

"We already broke one of his legs, and he still wouldn't talk," the man said. "He may have figured out who we are. What do we do now?"

With so many people around, Yolanda couldn't lose her temper. She lowered her voice and cursed, "Useless idiots! You can't even handle a kid. What about Paul?"

"He wasn't there when we went to their place. Ms. Quinn, what if the kid calls the police and has us arrested?" the man asked.