“Where?” I asked.
“My office,” Davis said. “In twenty minutes. I strongly suggest you come, Margaret. Mr. Sterling is a very generous man. He wants to make things right. And frankly, considering your financial situation, it would be wise to hear him out.”
I hung up the phone.
“Turn around,” I told Elias.
Elias frowned at me in the mirror. “You’re going back in? Mrs. Vance, we have the board meeting tomorrow. Why risk sitting in a room with him now?”
“Because he’s panicking,” I said. I thought back to the parking lot. The silver flash drive. The way Cameron had shoved it into Mason’s pocket while the headmaster wasn't looking. The way Dylan had stared at it with absolute terror.
“Cameron didn't drift his car at me just because he’s a bully, Elias. I think I caught him doing something else. Something he was trying to hide.”
Twenty minutes later, I walked into Headmaster Davis’s plush, mahogany-paneled office. I was still wearing my faded brown cardigan and my dusty skirt. I hadn't washed my face. I played the part perfectly.
Arthur Sterling was already sitting in one of the expensive leather guest chairs. He was a handsome man in his late forties, wearing a tailored navy suit that probably cost more than a teacher’s annual salary. He had the same sharp, arrogant jawline as his son, but his eyes were entirely cold.
When I entered, Arthur didn't stand. He just looked me up and down with clinical distaste.
“Have a seat, Margaret,” Headmaster Davis said nervously, gesturing to the chair next to Arthur.
I remained standing. “I prefer to stand. My knee is quite stiff.”
Arthur sighed, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair. He laced his manicured fingers together. “Let’s not make this harder than it needs to be, Margaret. My son made a reckless driving error. He is young. He’s under a lot of pressure with his Ivy League admissions coming up. But no one was hurt.”
“He hit my cart. I fell,” I said, keeping my voice small, playing the frightened victim.
“And I am prepared to compensate you for that minor inconvenience,” Arthur said smoothly. He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a folded document, sliding it across Davis’s desk. “This is a standard separation agreement. It includes a comprehensive Non-Disclosure clause. You sign this, confirming that my son never touched your cart and that you fell of your own accord. In exchange, you will receive a severance package of twenty-five thousand dollars.”
He looked at me as if he had just offered me the moon.
I looked at the document. Then, I looked at the shredded trash bags I had emptied from Davis’s office over the past three months. The bags I had taken home and taped back together. I knew Arthur Sterling had embezzled over four million dollars from the school’s endowment to cover margin calls at his investment firm. He was using tomorrow’s board meeting to push through a fraudulent real estate purchase to hide the missing funds.
But I misunderstood one crucial thing in this moment.
I thought Arthur was offering me the NDA because he knew I had been digging through the trash. I thought he suspected I had the financial documents, and he was using his son’s reckless driving as an excuse to get me to sign a blanket silence agreement.
“Twenty-five thousand dollars,” I repeated softly.
“It’s more than you make in a year,” Arthur said, his tone sharpening. “Take the money, Margaret. Sign the paper. Because if you don’t, my lawyers will tie you up in civil court until you are entirely bankrupt. We’ll claim you threw yourself at his car for a payout. Who do you think a judge will believe? A beloved student, or a disgruntled, low-income janitor?”
He didn't know. He truly believed I was nobody.
I didn't touch the pen. I just looked at him.
“I don't want your money, Mr. Sterling,” I said.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“I won’t sign it,” I said. I turned to the headmaster. “Mail my final paycheck, Richard.”
I walked out of the office before either of them could speak another word.
I pushed through the heavy double doors of the administration building and walked back to the waiting armored SUV. I climbed into the back seat, my pulse hammering with a new, dark energy.