“It has to be here,” a male voice muttered.
I recognized the voice instantly. It was Principal Vance. He sounded breathless, frantic.
I peeked through the small crack between the cabinets. Vance was standing in the doorway, his eyes sweeping the room. He wasn’t looking at the broken glass or the overturned chairs. He was staring directly at the puddle of green paint.
He stepped carefully into the room, rolling up the sleeve of his expensive suit jacket. He crouched down near the center of the puddle, right where I had just been standing. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag. He began probing the thick slime with a pen, searching for the lanyard.
He was looking for his keycard.
I watched as his frustration grew. He moved to the other side of the puddle, checking under the desks. He muttered a sharp curse, standing up and running a hand through his thinning hair. He checked his watch, his face pale and strained.
If he found me here, it wouldn’t just be expulsion. He would have me arrested for trespassing, or worse. He held all the power.
After another agonizing minute of searching, Vance gave up. He turned on his heel and marched out of the lab, letting the heavy door slam shut behind him.
I exhaled a shaky breath, slumping against the wall.
My hand moved to my pocket, my fingers tracing the hard plastic edge of his keycard.
Why? Why would the principal of an elite academy risk his entire career to help a student destroy a scholarship project? It didn’t make any sense. Chloe was wealthy, yes, but Vance was an institution. He didn’t need to do dirty work for a seventeen-year-old girl. Unless there was something I didn't know. Unless Chloe’s family had some kind of leverage over him.
I checked the clock on the wall. It was 8:45 AM.
The Sterling Grant board review started at noon. The external committee members were likely already arriving, setting up in the auditorium. If I just went home, Vance would win. Chloe would present her project unopposed. She would get the grant, and I would be expelled with a permanent mark on my record.
I had nothing left to lose.
I crept out of my hiding spot and quietly opened the lab door. The hallway was empty. Everyone was securely in their first-period classes.
I moved quickly, ignoring the stiff, drying paint on my uniform. I didn't head for the exit. I headed back toward the administrative wing.
Vance’s office was located in the central hub, guarded by his secretary, Mrs. Gable. But I knew that on Friday mornings, Mrs. Gable spent the first hour in the staff breakroom sorting the weekly mail delivery.
I reached the glass doors of the admin suite. It was quiet. I pushed the door open and slipped inside. The reception desk was empty.
I walked straight to Vance’s solid oak door. I pulled his master keycard from my pocket and tapped it against the electronic reader. The light blinked green, and the heavy lock clicked open.
I stepped into his office and closed the door behind me, locking it from the inside.
The room was immaculate. Diplomas covered the walls. A massive mahogany desk dominated the center of the room. I walked around to the leather chair and looked at his computer terminal. It was locked, displaying a password screen.
I cursed under my breath. I couldn’t hack a school network.
But as I looked around the desk, my eyes fell on a thick, dark green filing cabinet shoved into the corner near the window. The top drawer was slightly ajar, a ring of keys dangling from the lock. Vance had been in such a rush to find his dropped keycard that he hadn't secured his physical files.
I rushed over to the cabinet and pulled the drawer open.