Chapter 5 - Richard’s Rules
Richard Blake came to Northbridge with three attorneys.
Principal Torres brought one.
Dr. Shah brought documents.
Ms. Morgan brought herself.
Richard looked annoyed by that.
“This is an administrative matter.”
Ms. Morgan adjusted the support beneath her broken leg.
“My classroom records are part of it.”
Richard’s eyes moved to the chair again.
She almost called him on it.
Decided she didn’t need to.
Dr. Shah began with Eastwood.
Richard acknowledged contacting Carla Ruiz.
“I offered administrative assistance.”
“You offered additional funding if the organization accepted foundation-prepared service summaries.”
“I offered to reduce their paperwork.”
“Why would the foundation prepare student hours rather than the nonprofit where the students volunteered?”
Richard folded his hands.
“Because small nonprofits frequently have poor recordkeeping.”
Carla’s email quoted him:
We can reconcile totals centrally. Eastwood will still receive full credit for partnership activity.
Dr. Shah asked:
“What does reconcile mean?”
Richard smiled.
“I’m not here to define common English.”
Ms. Morgan spoke.
“It appears to mean assigning hours people didn’t work.”
Richard turned.
“That’s an allegation.”
“Yes.”
She held his gaze.
“That is why we’re reviewing records.”
He looked almost disappointed that she had not overreached.
The meeting continued.
Richard admitted the Blake Foundation used student service totals in annual impact reports.
Higher totals improved donor interest.
But he insisted no money was paid based strictly on hours.
Dr. Shah produced grant formulas.
Not strictly.
Partly.
Organizations with greater “Blake Leader engagement” received priority renewal.
Richard’s attorney interrupted.
“There is nothing improper about rewarding active partnerships.”
“No,” Dr. Shah said.
“Unless the activity data was false.”
Richard finally looked uncomfortable.
Then came Cameron.
Principal Torres asked:
“Did you know your son’s fellowship application listed 186 hours?”
“Yes.”
“Did you believe he completed them?”
Richard paused.
“I believed the records were verified.”
Ms. Morgan watched him.
“What did Cameron tell you?”
His attorney objected.
Richard answered anyway.
“He said he volunteered.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Richard’s eyes narrowed.
Ms. Morgan continued.
“Did he ever tell you he completed one hundred eighty-six hours?”
“No.”
The room changed.
Richard had known the application number.
But perhaps Cameron had never claimed it personally.
“Who prepared the application?” Dr. Shah asked.
“Foundation staff assisted.”
“Which staff?”
Richard hesitated.
“My executive director.”
“And Ellis Rowe?”
Richard looked away.
“He reviewed school documentation.”
There it was.
The bridge between foundation and school.
Later that afternoon, Cameron’s mother, Natalie Blake, arrived separately.
Ms. Morgan had never met her.
Natalie and Richard had divorced four years earlier.
She was an architect in Hartford.
Unlike Richard, she entered without an entourage.
She sat beside Cameron during his disciplinary interview.
“Tell the truth,” she said.
Richard’s attorney objected from across the room.
Natalie ignored him.
Cameron looked exhausted.
Principal Torres asked:
“Did Assistant Principal Rowe give you a key?”
“Yes.”
Richard’s attorney closed his eyes.
Cameron continued.
“Before class.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That Ms. Morgan had district property she wasn’t supposed to have.”
Ms. Morgan stared.
“The drive?”
“Yes.”
“Did he tell you what was on it?”
“No.”
“Then why did you agree to get it?”
Cameron’s voice hardened.
“Because he said you were trying to ruin my fellowship.”
“You believed him.”
“Yes.”
“Why did Mason open the drawer?”
“I didn’t want to.”
Mason, interviewed separately, had said the same thing in reverse.
Cameron planned.
Mason executed.
Each thought the other had more responsibility.
Dr. Shah asked:
“Did Mr. Rowe tell you to provoke Ms. Morgan?”
Cameron looked toward Richard.
Natalie noticed.
“Do not look at your father.”
Richard’s jaw tightened.
Cameron swallowed.
“Rowe said she was under stress.”
Ms. Morgan felt her chest tighten.
“He said if she got emotional, it would show the district she wasn’t handling the review professionally.”
“Did he tell you to throw chalk?”
“No.”
“Mock her injury?”
“No.”
“Then why did you?”
Silence.
Cameron’s face flushed.
“Because I was angry.”
Nobody rescued him.
“I thought she was taking something from me.”
Ms. Morgan asked quietly:
“What?”
Cameron looked at her.
“The fellowship.”
“You hadn’t earned the hours.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Not all of them.”
His expression changed.
There it was.
He knew enough.
Cameron continued.
“I knew one-eighty-six sounded high.”
Natalie closed her eyes.
“How many did you think you had?”
“Maybe fifty.”
Ms. Morgan remembered the logs.
Twenty-two verified through her sites.
Other legitimate service might exist elsewhere.
But nowhere near 186.
“Did you ask?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Cameron’s answer was nearly a whisper.
“Because my dad said verified was verified.”
Richard looked at him.
“That is not what I—”
Cameron snapped.
“You said not to look behind doors people opened for me.”
Silence.
Natalie turned toward Richard slowly.
Cameron’s face reddened.
“He says opportunities disappear if you ask too many questions about why you got them.”
Richard said:
“I was teaching you confidence.”
“No.”
Cameron’s voice cracked.
“You were teaching me not to check.”
That sentence shifted the room more than any spreadsheet.
Because Cameron had made cruel choices.
But he had also been raised inside a system where curiosity about privilege was treated as disloyalty.
Dr. Shah ended the interview.
Outside, Natalie asked Cameron whether he wanted to go home with her.
He nodded.
Richard looked stunned.
Cameron stopped before leaving.
He turned toward Ms. Morgan.
For one second she thought he might apologize.
He didn’t.
“I still think you wanted me to lose the fellowship.”
Ms. Morgan answered honestly.
“I wanted your application to be accurate.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“If accuracy makes you lose it, then it was never yours.”
Cameron flinched.
He left.
May you like
And for the first time in his life, the Blake name did not seem large enough to protect him from a simple number.
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