“Let’s just let this whole thing blow over,” Nico said smoothly. “I'll talk to the academy. Maybe we can still get you in somehow. Sound good?”
Forty grand?
I stared at him. His smile was too clean, too rehearsed.
A chill crawled up my spine.
“I didn’t spend the money,” I said flatly. “Why the hell should I be the one paying it back?”
Nico’s smile thinned. “River, be smart. I’m giving you a way out here.”
“You think you’re getting into this school after all that noise out front? Take the deal. Clean it up. Or… we both know the Grants have long arms.”
He turned to the instructor and bowed slightly. “Sorry for all the trouble, sir. We’ll take him to the hospital.”
The instructor didn’t stop him.
That’s when I dropped. Just let my knees go and collapsed.
“Hey! Candidate’s passed out!” someone yelled. “Get him to the infirmary—now!”
When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a medical bay. And standing beside me, in full dress uniform, was a man I hadn’t seen in years.
“Uncle Herbert?” I whispered.
The older man gave me a warm, tired smile.
He was the same man my dad once saved on the battlefield. The same man who’d sent me birthday cards every year, even after Dad was gone.
“Oh, River…” His voice dropped, rough around the edges. “Those brats out there think they can mess with my godson?” He took my good hand. “As long as I’m around, no one lays a finger on you, hear me?”
Something thick caught in my throat. It wasn’t anger. Wasn’t fear. It was… warmth.
The kind I hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Thank you. But I don’t want you to interfere. Just… promise me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“Once I prove I didn’t take that money, just get me a second shot at the interview. Let me prove I belong here. Fair and square.”
“You’ve got backbone, kid. Just like your father.”
Herbert looked at me for a long second. And then he smiled, proud.
“You’re just like your old man. Fine. You sort this out and I’ll make sure you get your chance.”
***
A few days later, I returned to the school I hadn’t set foot in for a while—wearing a full cast on my arm.
As I walked down the hallway, every head that had been buried in their little cliques suddenly turned to look at me.
“Hey, hey—look. It’s River. What happened to his arm?” a girl whispered.
“Wait—isn’t he the guy who stole the class funds?” the boy beside her asked.
“I heard the injury had something to do with Calla,” another girl added.
“Yeah,” said the tallest guy in the group, “I heard his military qualification exam got postponed because his arm’s broken.”
I ignored their whispers and walked on, steady and unbothered.
Calla was perched on top of a desk like usual, legs crossed, surrounded by her usual swarm of girls like some queen bee, giggling over the latest gossip.
But the second she saw me, the smile dropped from her face.
She hopped down from her little throne and stormed toward me, her expression dark and hostile.
“You’ve got some nerve showing your face here,” she hissed. “What’s the act today? Cast too tight? Gonna cry again?”
I looked her straight in the eye.
“I’m here for the truth, Calla. I’m not leaving until I get it.”
She threw her hands up and turned to the class.
“Everyone hear that? The guy who lost 250 grand from our class fund wants justice now!”
The room murmured. Disbelief. Suspicion.
But then, from the back, a voice spoke up.
“I mean... maybe River’s not lying.”
Everyone turned. It was Natalie, quiet girl, always near the back.
“Have you all actually looked at how we spend money?” she said. “Custom jackets, two class trips and didn’t we rent out an entire theme park for the spring party? If you think about it that alone cost like fifteen grand didn’t it?”
Eyes started shifting. Doubts forming.
“Oh, and remember Nico’s birthday?” someone chimed in after Natalie’s comment. “We used class funds for that, too—and even added extra just to get him that designer bag as a gift.”
“Yeah, and that class party last semester? I heard the venue alone cost a small fortune,” another classmate added.
The whispers started growing louder, threading their way through the crowd.
Calla’s face twisted. The cracks in her perfect expression were starting to show.
“That’s nothing! Don’t let him derail this,” she snapped, voice shaking with anger. “River, just admit it! You stole the money. Unless you’ve got proof, shut your mouth!”
That was my cue. I’ve been waiting for her to say that.
“You keep screaming that I stole 250 grand.” I stepped forward, lifting my chin.
“Fine. Let’s do this right here. Right now. Pull up every transaction from the class fund over the last three years.”
The hallway went dead silent.
“I want the whole school to see where the money really went. You in, Calla?”
Her face drained of color. For a second, she actually looked scared. But pride snapped her back into place.
“You think I’m afraid of a little accounting?” she sneered. “Fine. If it turns out you took the money, I’ll personally hand you over to the police. But if I’m wrong—”
She pointed a manicured finger at me.
“—I’ll pay for you to study abroad. First class.”
The whole hallway gasped.
One of her followers ran off to grab the classroom laptop. I took out my phone, ready to cast the data onto the projector.
And then a deep, rhythmic noise filled the air. We all turned as a sleek white helicopter descended onto the school’s front lawn like something out of a movie.
The side door flew open before the rotors even stopped.
It was Nico.
He jumped down—literally jumped—ignoring the ladder completely. His hair was a mess, shirt half-untucked and he looked like a guy who’d just watched his life flash before his eyes.
“Stop! Calla! River! Don’t touch that computer!”
