The three boys spun around in shock. Chase practically jumped backward, dropping his energy drink, which spilled over the floor. Richard’s initial surprise quickly morphed into a dark, vicious sneer as he recognized me.
"The lunch lady," Richard said, his voice dripping with venom. "Are you out of your mind? You broke into the server room?"
"Step away from the terminal, Richard," I said, keeping my voice perfectly level.
Trent and Chase instinctively moved to block the door, their body language shifting from surprised teenagers to loyal enforcers. The physical power dynamic in the room was overwhelming. Three athletic eighteen-year-olds against a seventy-four-year-old woman.
"What are you doing, Evelyn?" Richard asked, taking a slow step toward me. He glanced back at the screen. "Endowment transfers. Shell companies. Are you trying to steal from the school?"
"I'm trying to see what your father already stole," I replied coldly.
Richard stopped. A genuine look of confusion flashed across his face, quickly replaced by defensive rage. "My father is saving this pathetic school. He’s funding the whole operation."
"Your father," I said, my voice hardening, "has siphoned fifty million dollars from the scholarship endowment into his real estate holding company. He intentionally bankrupted Prescott to trigger a default clause in the land deed."
Richard stared at me. He raised his hand to run his fingers aggressively through his hair. As he did, the sleeve of his designer jacket pulled back, revealing his wrist.
My breath caught in my throat.
Strapped to Richard’s wrist was a vintage, silver Patek Philippe watch with a cracked crystal bezel.
"Where did you get that watch?" I demanded, all the calculated calm instantly vanishing from my voice.
Richard looked down at his wrist, momentarily thrown by my sudden intensity. He smirked, recovering his arrogance. "This? My dad gave it to me yesterday. Said he found it in a desk in the old archives. Belonged to the dead guy who founded this place. Why? You want to steal this too?"
My heart hammered violently against my ribs. It was Thomas's watch. The watch I had given him on our twentieth anniversary. He had kept it in a locked drawer in the headmaster's suite. Marcus hadn't just stolen the school's money; he had desecrated Thomas's personal history, handing it over to his spoiled son like a cheap trophy.
The progress bar on the terminal chimed softly. 100%. The download was complete.
Before I could move, Richard lunged forward. He snatched the USB drive from the port.
"No!" I shouted, stepping toward him.
Trent and Chase immediately moved in, grabbing my arms. They didn't hit me, but their grips were painfully tight, forcing me backward. I struggled, twisting my shoulders, but my old joints screamed in protest.
"Let go of me!" I gasped.
Richard held the small drive up, examining it under the blue lights. He smiled. "You really thought you could pull this off? You're just a sad old woman."
He dropped the drive onto the hard linoleum floor and brought his heavy designer boot down on it, crushing the plastic casing with a sharp crack. He ground his heel into the pieces, destroying the memory chip.
"There," Richard whispered. "No proof. No nothing."
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I knew what it meant. Arthur had mirrored the download remotely. The physical drive was just a decoy to keep the terminal open. I had the proof. But Richard didn't know that.
"You think this stops anything?" I breathed heavily, glaring at him.
"It stops you," Richard laughed. He looked at his phone, which suddenly buzzed. He read a text message, and his smile widened into something truly predatory. "Wow. Timing is everything. My dad just texted me. The demolition crews are pulling up to the back gates right now."
"What?" I choked out. "The blueprint said the end of the week."
"He moved it up," Richard shrugged. "Something about a crazy old lady snooping around. He said they're bringing the arts wing down before the sun comes up. Claiming an emergency structural failure."