Chapter 5 - The Twenty-Dollar Study Guide
Theo Ramirez came forward Monday.
Not because adults forced him.
Because his mother found a payment.
Twenty dollars.
Memo:
History review.
Theo sat in Principal Warren’s office with his mother, Naomi Park, and a union representative for Ms. Collins.
He looked terrified.
“I didn’t know it was stolen.”
His mother stared at him.
“You paid for answers.”
“I thought it was a study guide.”
“Before the test?”
Theo looked down.
“Yes.”
Naomi asked, “Who sold it?”
Theo swallowed.
“Logan.”
The room went still.
“How did he send it?”
“A disappearing-message app.”
“Do you still have anything?”
“No.”
“Payment record?”
“Yes.”
“Did he say where the material came from?”
Theo hesitated.
“He said it was from Keene’s program.”
“Exact words?”
Theo thought.
“‘Keene pack.’”
Not proof that Keene knowingly distributed it.
But evidence of what Logan claimed.
Theo continued.
“The file didn’t have questions. Just numbers and letters.”
An answer key.
“Did Logan sell it to anyone else?”
“I don’t know.”
His mother looked at him.
“The truth.”
Theo’s eyes filled.
“He had a list.”
“What list?”
“People who paid.”
“How many?”
“Maybe twenty.”
Across four subjects.
That turned a school disciplinary problem into something much larger.
Payment records began to emerge.
Fifteen dollars.
Twenty.
Thirty for “full packs.”
Some students paid Logan.
Others paid a senior named Marcus Dunn.
Marcus played varsity basketball.
Coach Keene was his academic-support supervisor.
Marcus initially denied everything.
Then investigators showed him transaction histories.
His story changed.
He said Logan organized the sales.
Logan said Marcus did.
Neither wanted to say where the answer materials began.
Andrew Mercer learned his son had accepted more than six hundred dollars in payments over one semester.
He sat at his kitchen table staring at the records.
Logan stood across from him.
“Tell me now.”
“I sold study notes.”
“Stop.”
“Dad—”
“I have spent two weeks defending the possibility that people misunderstood you.”
Andrew’s voice cracked.
“Do not make me participate in your lies.”
Logan’s face hardened.
“You always tell clients results matter.”
Andrew stared.
“What?”
“Your whole company exists because parents pay for grades.”
“We tutor.”
“You sell advantage.”
“We teach.”
“To people who can afford it.”
Andrew went silent.
Logan continued.
“You act like I invented this.”
Something painful entered Andrew’s face.
“Maybe I taught you terrible things without meaning to.”
Logan looked surprised.
Andrew continued.
“But I did not teach you to steal answer keys.”
Logan looked away.
“Did Keene give them to you?”
“No.”
“Marcus?”
Silence.
“Logan.”
“I can’t.”
Andrew stared.
“Why?”
For the first time, fear appeared.
Not arrogance.
Fear.
“If I say anything, he’ll destroy me.”
Andrew knew immediately Logan was not talking about Marcus.
Coach Keene.
“What does he have on you?”
Logan said nothing.
Meanwhile Ms. Collins returned fully to teaching.
Logan was absent.
Some students treated her differently.
Overly careful.
They moved desks too quickly.
Offered help she had not requested.
One boy tried pushing her wheelchair without asking.
“Stop.”
He released it immediately.
“Sorry.”
Ms. Collins softened.
“Ask first.”
“I thought I was helping.”
“I know.”
She pointed toward her broken leg.
“Injury doesn’t eliminate consent.”
He nodded.
That small moment mattered.
Logan’s cruelty had made the wheelchair the center of the classroom.
Sarah wanted it to become ordinary again.
During fourth period, Maya stayed after.
“I feel guilty.”
“For recording?”
“For sending it.”
“Why?”
“Everything exploded.”
Ms. Collins looked at her.
“Did you create any of it?”
“No.”
“Then you didn’t explode anything.”
“But if I hadn’t—”
“Logan still blocked me.”
Maya looked down.
“Keene still had the files.”
“Yes.”
“Jordan still got framed.”
“Yes.”
Ms. Collins leaned back.
“Evidence doesn’t create wrongdoing. Sometimes it just removes privacy from it.”
Maya absorbed the sentence.
Then asked:
“Are you scared?”
Ms. Collins smiled tiredly.
“Yes.”
Maya seemed surprised.
“I thought teachers weren’t supposed to say that.”
“Teachers lie about many things.”
Maya laughed.
Then became serious.
“Keene saw me today.”
“Where?”
“Parking lot.”
“He’s on leave.”
“I know.”
“What did he do?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“He just looked at me.”
That could mean nothing.
Or something.
Ms. Collins refused to guess.
“Tell Warren.”
Maya nodded.
As she reached the door, Ms. Collins’s email chimed.
A message from Naomi Park.
We recovered deleted files from Logan’s school laptop. We need to speak tomorrow morning.
Attached was a filename.
COLLINS_PRESSURE.docx
Ms. Collins stared at it.
Maya saw her face.
“What?”
Sarah slowly turned the screen away.
“I don’t know yet.”
But she knew one thing.
Somebody had created a document with her name and the word pressure.
May you like
And it had been on Logan’s computer long before he blocked her wheelchair.
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