Chapter 6
"...the audit board is asking too many questions about the missing endowment funds from the '21 fiscal year," Superintendent Pendelton said into the receiver, his voice tight with controlled panic. "If the state inspectors get a look at the actual ledger instead of the sanitized version Gable prepared, the entire restructuring grant is gone. We’ll be dismantled by summer."
Clara pressed harder against the cold cinderblock wall, clutching her penlight like a lifeline. The missing endowment funds—millions of dollars earmarked for student technology and infrastructure—had apparently vanished into thin air. But where had the money gone? Her brother’s journal had hinted at embezzlement, but hearing the district's highest-ranking official confirm it in real-time made the conspiracy chillingly tangible.
On the other end of the line, a muffled voice crackled through the telephone speaker, too faint for Clara to decipher. Pendelton rubbed his temples with his free hand, his shoulders slumping under an invisible weight.
"I don't care about Gable's methods," Pendelton snapped in response, his patience wearing thin. "Cutting ties and intimidating freshmen might work for keeping order in the hallways, but it draws unnecessary attention. If the Vance girl digs any deeper into her brother's old files, we won't just have an audit on our hands; we’ll have a full-blown civil lawsuit regarding wrongful termination and systemic suppression."
Clara’s stomach churned. So Mrs. Gable’s public humiliation of her in the hallway earlier that morning hadn't just been a random disciplinary outburst; it was a deliberate attempt to intimidate her into submission, orchestrated to stop her before she even started looking. They had targeted her because they knew she was David’s sister, and they expected her to fold under the pressure just as her parents had years ago when the non-disclosure agreements were signed.
Pendelton slammed the phone down onto its cradle, cutting off the voice on the other end. He stood up, grabbing a thick stack of manila folders from the table, and walked toward a heavy metal door set into the back wall of the archive room—a door that Clara recognized from the architectural map as the secondary exit leading directly to the parking lot.
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Panic surged through Clara’s veins. If Pendelton walked out that door, she would lose her chance to secure the physical evidence she needed to expose the entire corruption ring. But if she stepped into the room now, she would be caught red-handed, with no escape route and no one to protect her.
As Pendelton reached for the heavy brass handle of the back exit, a sudden metallic clatter echoed from the far end of the service corridor behind Clara. She spun around, heart in her throat, just as a familiar figure stepped out from the shadows of the water pipes. It was Mr. Harrison, holding a heavy iron flashlight, his expression an unreadable mask of resignation and urgency.
