Chapter 11 - The Counterattack
By Thursday morning, Grant Scott had an explanation.
His company issued it through every local news outlet.
Yes, his phone received the security login code.
No, he had not personally disabled the cafeteria camera.
The maintenance authentication system forwarded codes to his device because he was the registered executive administrator.
Technicians sometimes called him for access.
No one could prove who used the code.
It was plausible.
That irritated Ava.
She wanted lies to be obvious.
Instead, every important question seemed wrapped in enough uncertainty for powerful people to hide inside.
Then Scott Civic attacked back.
Its attorneys sent a defamation warning to the Ledger.
They threatened Thomas Vail’s company with litigation over confidential procurement material.
They accused Dr. Nair of violating student privacy.
And a legal letter arrived at Laura’s home alleging that disclosure of information regarding Michael Mitchell’s settlement could violate confidentiality terms.
Celia read it twice.
“They’re bluffing.”
Laura did not look convinced.
“Are you sure?”
“The agreement does not prohibit you from discussing your own experience generally, and we haven’t published confidential settlement terms.”
“But they know I’m scared of it.”
“Yes.”
Ava stared at the letter.
“They keep doing this.”
“Doing what?” Laura asked.
“Making everyone decide whether telling the truth costs too much.”
Laura looked at her for a long time.
Then folded the letter.
“We’re done letting that work.”
At noon, the district announced Principal Mercer would remain on leave.
Assistant Principal Crowley was also placed on leave pending the discipline-record investigation.
The modernization contract was suspended.
That should have felt like progress.
Instead the attacks online became uglier.
A newly created account posted a compilation of Ava arguing with teachers, rolling her eyes in class, and once slamming a locker.
The videos were real.
Edited.
But real.
The caption called her “Ridgeview’s Professional Victim.”
Ava watched twenty seconds before throwing her phone onto the couch.
“I look awful.”
Laura picked it up.
“You look sixteen.”
“I told Mrs. Klein her assignment was pointless.”
“It was rude.”
“Exactly.”
Laura sat beside her.
“Being rude once does not make what Mackenzie did acceptable.”
“What if everyone thinks it does?”
“Then everyone is wrong.”
Ava laughed sadly.
“You make that sound simple.”
“It isn’t simple. It is still true.”
Maya called.
The clips had come from school security footage.
That was serious.
District video was not supposed to be released casually.
Someone had accessed archived recordings and selectively posted them.
Ava immediately suspected Mercer.
Maya did not.
“Could be dozens of people with varying access.”
“Why do you always ruin my good accusations?”
“Occupational hazard.”
Then Maya told her something worse.
The edited clips included footage from a hallway camera replaced by Scott Civic.
The same security system.
Celia urged them not to speculate publicly.
Ava agreed.
Privately, she was furious.
Friday afternoon, Ava returned to Ridgeview for the first time since the attack.
Classes were still canceled, but students could retrieve belongings with supervision.
The cafeteria doors stood open.
Ava stopped in the hallway.
She did not want to enter.
Laura waited beside her.
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do.”
The floor had been cleaned.
Of course it had.
No milk.
No fries.
No visible evidence that anything important had happened.
Ava walked to the table.
It had been bolted back into position.
Her fingers rested against the edge.
“I hate this place.”
Laura did not contradict her.
A voice behind them said:
“I used to.”
Leah Porter.
She had come to retrieve copies of records during the investigation.
Ava smiled faintly.
“Used to?”
“Now I mostly hate what I let it convince me about myself.”
They sat.
Leah looked around the cafeteria.
“I thought leaving meant I lost.”
“Did it?”
“No. Leaving saved me.”
Ava absorbed that.
The narrative online said she was fighting to make Ridgeview safe.
She was.
But she had also begun feeling responsible for fixing everything.
“What if nothing changes?” she asked.
Leah shrugged.
“Some things already did.”
“Mercer isn’t fired.”
“Yet.”
“Scott’s still rich.”
“He’ll probably stay rich.”
“Mackenzie might come back.”
“She probably will.”
Ava frowned.
“You’re bad at inspirational speeches.”
Leah smiled.
“I’m excellent at them. You’re just expecting a movie ending.”
That made Ava laugh.
Leah’s expression softened.
“You stood up.”
“In the cafeteria?”
“No. After.”
Ava looked down.
“You think that’s what matters?”
“I think getting knocked down became important because people saw it.”
Leah tapped the table.
“But what matters to you is what you do once they stop watching.”
Before Ava could answer, Mackenzie entered with an investigator.
She saw Ava and stopped.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Mackenzie walked closer.
“I found something in my locker.”
Ava raised an eyebrow.
“Another secret device?”
“Not mine.”
Mackenzie handed a clear evidence bag to the investigator.
Inside was a folded piece of paper.
A printed email.
Ava could read the subject line through plastic.
MITCHELL — FINAL STRATEGY
Sender:
Grant Scott.
Recipient:
Elias Mercer.
Timestamp:
Sunday night.
The night before the cafeteria attack.
Ava’s pulse surged.
“What does it say?”
The investigator unfolded the copy.
The email contained only two sentences.
Mackenzie will handle the girl tomorrow. Make sure there isn’t a record if emotions get messy. After Thursday, none of this matters.
Ava stared at Mackenzie.
“You knew about this?”
“No.”
“Why was it in your locker?”
“I don’t know.”
The investigator turned the paper over.
There was handwriting on the back.
Three words.
May you like
ASK WHO PRINTED THIS.
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