Chapter 6 - Lucas WhitmoreLucas came to Jordan’s house on a Wednesday evening.
Angela nearly closed the door.
“I’m not here for my mom.”
Lucas was fourteen.
Tall.
Pale.
Exhausted.
Jordan appeared behind Angela.
“What do you want?”
Lucas looked at him.
“To apologize.”
Jordan laughed.
“You didn’t hit me.”
“No.”
Lucas swallowed.
“But I knew she blamed you.”
Angela let him in.
Lucas sat at the kitchen table.
He explained everything.
Mrs. Whitmore had become obsessed with the Franklin Scholarship the previous summer.
She enrolled Lucas in his father’s company program.
Made him practice interviews nightly.
Read his essays.
Rewrote parts of them.
Then, one evening, she brought home a printed list of interview questions.
Lucas asked where they came from.
“She said successful people use every advantage.”
Jordan stared.
“You knew they were confidential?”
“I guessed.”
“Did you use them?”
Lucas nodded.
Shame covered his face.
“Yes.”
Then the anonymous complaint came.
The foundation interviewed Lucas separately.
He lied at first.
Then admitted seeing the questions.
He refused to say where his mother obtained them.
The foundation disqualified him.
Mrs. Whitmore exploded.
“She said somebody had set us up.”
“Why me?”
“Because your score moved to first.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I know.”
Lucas wiped his face.
“She needed someone to blame.”
Jordan looked at him.
“Who sent the anonymous complaint?”
Lucas hesitated.
“I think my dad.”
Silence.
“Your father?”
“He and my mom fought the night before.”
Lucas had heard Daniel say:
“You are going to ruin our son because you cannot stand losing.”
The next morning, the foundation received the tip.
Mrs. Whitmore suspected Daniel but never proved it.
Then she found out Jordan had won.
Jordan became the safer target.
A thirteen-year-old student.
Someone she controlled.
Jordan felt anger rise.
“You let her think I did it.”
“I was scared.”
Jordan stood.
“So was I when I was on my knees.”
Lucas began crying.
Jordan wanted to hate him.
But he recognized the same thing he had seen in Mason.
Fear of Mrs. Whitmore.
Even inside her own home.
Before Lucas left, he handed Angela a flash drive.
“What’s this?”
“Copies of files from my mom’s laptop.”
Angela immediately frowned.
“Did you steal these?”
“She told me to delete them.”
That changed things.
Lucas had copied them first.
Angela did not open the drive.
She gave it to the district investigator.
Chain of custody mattered now.
Two days later, they learned what was inside.
Student names.
Parent incomes.
Scholarship prospects.
Notes about which families had hired Whitmore Academic Consulting.
May you like
And one column labeled:
LEVERAGE.
Related Stories
